


Glass Windows

by TempleVevHelm (orphan_account)



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gore, Horror, Humor, Slow Burn, Survival, Violence, Zombies, ask for tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-10-27 08:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TempleVevHelm
Summary: Leon knows there's something off with the thing that's hunting him through the halls of the R.P.D. Why doesn't the damn thing just kill him? A novelized telling of Leon's story, with a hint of the rarest tags in this fandom: slowburn, fluff, and humor!FIC ABANDONED. WILL NOT UPDATE AGAIN.





	1. East Wing Blues

Leon pushed into the police department. He closed the doors behind him heavily and a sharp click signaled an automatic lock sequence. Great. Leon was sure he wasn’t going to want to get out anytime soon—not with the horde of snarling, snapping… Whatever those were, banging at that flimsy gate out front, but it would have been nice to know he had a second option if things got too bad inside the station. Hopefully he wouldn’t need a reason to try and get out. His muscles coiled tighter as phantom creaks and moans rumbled about the foyer. His confidence wore thin.

Leon scanned around. The room was as large as it had been the first time he came. Papers were strewn about on desks, the statues at the center and back of the station shone. There were many branching doors leading off to side rooms, offices, different wings of the facility, and likely a weapons’ locker. There was something very… Not right about the quiet, empty feel of the room. It ached after the blustering life Leon knew it held before. People rushed around with cases to crack and snacks to pilfer from the lounge. People would come with their children to tour the place and lawyers would come and belt their problems out into the hall as if they were performers on a stage. There was none of that deceptively carefree atmosphere anymore. Swallowing, Leon walked towards the front desk. His steps echoed loudly through the room as his own thoughts echoed loudly inside his head. 

He needed to see if anyone was still alive in this facility—that was his first priority. People he was planning on working with might still be here—people who would have grown to be friends, coworkers, people he could trust to watch his back. Weapons were second, due to necessity. He only had a couple of bullets left after the gas station fiasco. For a moment he cursed the softness of his heart. He tossed that girl—Claire—his last full magazine. In the end it had saved her, but there was no telling when Leon would get another—and whether or not it would have saved him later on down the line. He shook himself as he sat at the monitor and pressed the power button. His third priority was finding out what the _fuck_ happened. What lead up to all of this—when did it start—and why did Leon have such a sinking feeling that he was going to get the exact answers he wanted right in this compound?

The monitor flared to life and the security feed buzzed on. Leon’s eye caught a small box of bullets. He popped four into his gun distractedly and threw the rest into the pouch on his belt. 

”There has to be _someone_ here,” Leon grumbled to himself anxiously. He flipped through several cameras before the sound of gunfire drew him to a specific part of the wing. Desperately, he switched the camera feed, revealing an officer running down a hall, pelting bullets at a dark, shambling something. “Not good.” As he switched the camera feed to follow the man, he looked right up at the camera.

“David, Martin! I found a way out, it’s in here!” The man turned just as the thing—a _zombie_ really—growled and lurched at him. The angle wasn’t good, but Leon’s heart still jumped into his throat at the sight. The man point blank shoot the damn thing in the head without effect. Leon’s hands clenched as the zombie stumbled forward enough to warrant an upward block, and bite the man’s arm before he managed to push it off. Desperately, the man looked back to the camera. “Send reinforcements! East hallway!” Then he shot off like a bolt.

”I gotta find that guy,” Leon murmured shakily. There were no more cameras the way the man went, and besides, he was in danger. Leon needed to get to the east wing and help him instead of sitting on his ass and watching as the man got tired or missed a shot and wound up dead. The man also mentioned a way out—maybe they’d be able to help each other. Determined, Leon brought up a map of the compound on the computer. He’d never needed to look at it before, but times called. The map obligingly popped up on the monitor’s hud and Leon pulled out his phone to snap a picture. He studied it as he got up. East office, press room, and then the break room. From that area, he would be able to get to the hallway in the east wing. That was a lot of ground to cover.

Leon slid sideways out from behind the front desk. He jumped hurriedly back up to the main landing and looked at the gate. A sign had been taped to the front reading “keep out” in blocky, panicked letters. Leon didn’t want to think about why. He stepped up to the door’s main control panel and slapped his hand over the button. The gate managed to crawl up about a foot before something caught in its track. The noise grated harshly and rang across the foyer but Leon didn’t have time to worry about what might or might not have heard it.

Leon crouched down and looked under the broken gate. The hall was dark and foreboding—the light of his flashlight hardly cut through it far enough to see the far hall. Next to the gate above him was a power box with a missing fuse. He shone his flashlight left and right, but saw no one. He swallowed down the nervous energy building in the back of his throat and got onto his forearms to crawl in. As his head and upper body breached the room, the cloying, sickly smell of metal and burning, putrid flesh hit his nose. It was physically painful to breathe. The floor, walls _and_ ceiling were covered in splatters and sprays of mucus, grime and blood, yet there were no bodies in sight. What the hell happened in here?

Leon pointed his flashlight forward as he stood back up. No turning back now. he put his gun arm up and partially covered his face in the crook of his elbow as he made his way down the first hall. Despite his earlier need to hurry and find the man from the security feed, something deep and scared within him said not to make too much noise. It was the same fear that made his intestines shrivel and twist at themselves when the gate skidded to a stop just moments before. He needed to get a hold of himself before he panicked and did something stupid.

Leon rubbed the back of his gun hand over his brow, wiping the cold sweat from dripping into his eyes as he rounded the corner into the next hall. This was one just as dark as the last. Several doors appeared to be barricaded from the outside. When Leon dared to try one of the unboarded doors, it proved to be locked from the inside. To stop something from getting in, or from getting out? As he entered a four way corridor, a door creaked and groaned as if startled awake, and Leon released a shaky breath. That door was barricaded from the outside. Good. He had a feeling he didn’t want to know what was in there.

Still going slow, Leon shook himself of the event and muttered to himself, “You got this...” Leon didn’t quite believe it though.

Walking down the next hallway, Leon came upon some double doors. They looked important, so he carefully eased the grimy knob and pushed the doors in. He froze as he entered the threshold. There, in the middle of the room, laid a body. It looked as if it had been bled from every orifice; its eyes gouged and its mouth open in a perpetual horror-stricken state.

Leon raised his gun as he stood over it. He nudged it with his boot. No response. He rounded the body, gun still raised, and crouched low to look at it up close. He used his gun to tap it with moderate force across the forehead. Still no response.

Leon stood back up and headed to the door at the far end of the room since he doubted he was in danger of it being… Alive… He tapped the light switch and looked back around the room. There was nothing else, so he rounded the body once more and exited the double doors.

Leon turned to continue down the hall. A locker blocked his path. As carefully as he could he braced himself and heaved the locker back to its original position against the far wall. It creaked and groaned despite his caution and he took a moment to asses the area it had been blocking off.

A red light shone at the wall in front of him, marking the emergency firenozzle. To his right were a couple of stairs leading down into a new area. At the bottom, another body lay dormant.

“Jesus,” Leon hissed, covering his nose. This one had obviously been sitting out for a while—the acrid stench of decaying flesh that had been sitting and stewing in a warm particle environment wafted up at him. The body was likely a breeding ground for bacteria and toxins, soaking up all the grime, blood, mucus and other questionable fluids on the floor with it. The thought made him want to throw up, but he pushed ahead. He came closer and noticed a door. It had a thick metal chain around it. Leon wracked his brain as he tried to remember what was behind the door from his first tour of the place, but nothing immediately came to mind. Whatever was in there was probably important though, or else why would someone lock it up? In fact, why did it seem like most of the facility had been purposefully sabotaged?

Leon’s brow furrowed as he walked deeper into the room. In the main hall there had been medical beds and drapes randomly strewn about, but some appeared broken. There were power boxes with missing fuses that had been taped over or booby trapped and the first gate that Leon had been through had been damaged—it wouldn’t run on its track correctly and got stuck barely a foot from the ground. Chairs, tables and cabinets had been pushed up against doors that led deeper into the facility instead of the doors leading _into_ it—something had happened from the _inside_. The question now was, why? Who would do all of this? Who would target the R.P.D in such a time of crisis? Why—

“Open up! Hurry! _Open up!”_

Leon jumped as the gate in the side room rattled. He recognized that voice—it was the man from the security feed!

Leon rushed over to the gate, and nearly slipped and fell as he crouched to get a grip on the bottom of it. Again, the gate stalled, its upper track likely damaged in an act of sabotage. From the small gap, the man stuck his arm into the room, begging now, “Help me! Please help me!”

“Gimme your hand!” Leon half-shouted, pulling at the man’s first exposed arm, then the next when he managed to wiggle the other through. “Give me your other hand!” The man rolled over to get a better grip on Leon, but a snarl echoed loudly behind the gate and a spurt of blood landed on the floor.

The man wailed in agony. Leon’s hands shook and slipped as he tugged. The force on the other side of the gate was terrifying in its implication. “Hang in there!” Leon gasped, bracing himself and struggling wildly. Finally, as if some thing had given way, he tugged the man through the gate—half of him anyways.

Leon blinked quickly, almost refusing to believe what his eyes were seeing. The man’s eyes dilated and went blank. His mouth hung open. The entire bottom half of his torso was soaked in blood, and beyond that… Beyond that was a mess of ruptured organs and pulsating guts—still twitching and curling as if panicked.

”Oh my god...” Leon felt like he was going to throw up. “Jesus Christ...”

The horror didn’t end because the snarling behind the gate simply grew louder without its meal. Leon’s eyes darted to the small notebook the man had dropped on the floor. Leon swallowed dryly as he snatched it and stumbled backward. He headed towards the door leading back out to the main room, but froze. The door banged once. Twice. Then it burst open, and a zombie gnashed at Leon.

Jumping back, Leon took a potshot at the thing, hitting its shoulder. It swayed with the force, its body likely not expecting the blow or able to readjust for it. Snapping its broken, bloodied teeth, it dashed for him again. This time, Leon managed to clip it across the jaw, then once solidly in the head. It lolled for a moment, then fell backwards, leaking a decidedly unhealthy maroon onto the floor anew. Leon screwed his eyes shut and pressed the meat of his palms up into his eyes. This wasn’t happening. This was _insane_. The frantic beating against the gate hadn’t ceased, and Leon needed to leave before more of the damn things realized where the noise was coming from.

Leon stuffed the journal into a side pocket and rushed out of the room. Immediately, a body threw itself into the room through a window. It got up slow, but Leon froze. It stared at him, uncomprehending but hungry, and as it opened its mouth, Leon ran past. He flew over the steps leading to the secondary landing, and ran down the hall. His boots thudded against the floor noisily, and the equipment in his belt pouches jangled insistently, but he couldn’t hear it over the white noise in his ears. A door that had been previously barricaded was smashed open with a spray of sharp wood. Leon skidded to a halt as two wood-laden zombies growled at him

“Shit—shit they’re everywhere…!” Leon hissed to himself, panicked and shaking. He took several potshots at them, managing to take down the first while the other rushed at him. Leon gasped and nearly fell backwards, his feet slipping over the slime off the hallway once more. He righted himself in time to throw the damn thing to the ground behind him. Leon brought his gun back up and ran back to the gate. He dropped to the floor, covering his front with blood and slime and crawled desperately.

Leon made it most of the way through the gate— _finally!_ —when a clammy, cold hand latched onto the bottom of his pant leg. Leon turned quickly and saw a zombie crawling up the length of his leg. Its jaw was slightly unhinged and rotting. It hissed at him and clawed his leg. Its milky, unseeing eyes bored into him as the flesh of its jaw wobbled hungrily. “Goddammit!” Leon yelped. He turned back around and tried to crawl away, but the zombie’s hold transferred to his upper arm. He was going to die.

“Watch out!” 

_Crack!_

A thick boot met the zombie’s teeth where they had almost chomped down on Leon. A man grabbed Leon’s arm in the zombie’s place, dragging him out from under the gate and to safety. Leon gasped raggedly as the man turned back to the gate, “I got it!” and he slammed it down over the zombie’s head in a spray of red.

Leon’s arm came up to block the spray, and lowered slowly. He looked up and blinked slow at the man who saved him. The man in question slid down the gate, addressing Leon with due haste, “You’re safe… For now.” The man groaned in pain. For the first time, Leon spotted the horrible red wound taking up the man’s side. Leon watched as the man continued to apply pressure to the wound—it looked large, and there was a lot of blood. Leon wasn’t a doctor, but he also wasn’t an idiot. When the man had exerted the necessary strength to drag Leon to safety and finish up that zombie, he probably reopened the wound, which was a dangerous prospect considering their situation…

Leon licked his lips drily. “Thanks…”

The man’s attention focused back onto Leon. “Marvin Branagh,” he—Marvin—introduced.

“Leon Kennedy. There was another officer—” Leon gasped, “I-I couldn’t… I couldn’t—”

Marvin’s hand waved in front of Leon’s face. “...Here.”

Leon looked up. Exhaling, he took Marvin’s hand and let himself be hauled up. Once upright, Marvin looked at him with a soft light in his harried eyes, “I’m sure you did what you could, Leon.” He clapped a hand to Leon’s shoulder as he walked past. Leon, with nothing else to do, followed behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh ho ho hoooo i have never played a resident evil game in all my fuckin life (thats a lie but also im stupid as fuck and barely remember anything that wasn't glaringly obvious akjsdakd rip me)  
> mr x will show up at the same time he shows up in the game. im serious about this being slow burn, its not even going to feel like a ship fic until he shows up and i get to do some sick (and hopefully subtle) exposition on their developing feelings. I dont knwo what the end is going to be like but hopefully i'll be able to twist it into my own vision lmao so stay tuned if you actually want to see how i change Leon's experiences based on his feelings for the tyrant! yehaw!  
> also also this is NOT noncon, im trying to get a handle on how theyre going to earn and cultivate a relationship based on their situations (well, if i can anyways lmao)
> 
> ***dont ask me when im going to update/when im going to have another chapter up, i'm doing this on my own sweet ass time babey


	2. West Wing Subterfuge

Marvin was walking to a settee with a laptop on one of the cushions when Leon remembered something. 

”Hey,” Leon called. Marvin’s head rolled back towards him questioningly. Leon opened up a side pouch and gingerly took out the small notebook. He thumbed over it before handing it to Marvin. “It was on the guy that… I picked it up after he died. He was holding onto it the whole time, I figured it was something important...”

Marvin nodded, “Thanks.” He flipped open a page and paused. His brows furrowed in consideration and he seemed to take a closer look at it before his eyes darted up. He turned on his heel and continued to the settee.

As they got closer, Leon found his voice again. 

”Does anyone know what started this?”

”Not a clue,” Marvin replied, his fingers flying over the laptop before he even sat down. “But honestly, all you need to know is that this place will eat you alive if you aren’t careful...”

Leon scoffed. “Yeah, well, I was supposed to start last week and I got a call to stay away.” He checked over his gun, “I wish I’d come here sooner...”

Marvin looked up, pausing in his search. “You’re here now, Leon. That’s all that matters.” Marvin pointed to a bag of gear next to the settee and brought up the notebook to his face, studying it intensely.

Leon stashed his gun away and walked over. He opened the bag, shooting the lieutenant a questioning glance. Inside was riotgear, official R.P.D stuff. He shot a loot at Marvin but the man was too busy looking at the notebook to notice. Leon shucked off his jacket and shoes and put the gear on over his clothes--it would work as double layered protection. First his took off the belt to the pants and put them to the side; then he put on the thick sleeved undershirt and a crisp looking dress shirt and did up all the buttons. He put the military grade pants on next, and put his belt back over it. The vest went on last, bullet proof and felt like it would be able to take a good beating if push came to shove. None of it was too heavy or restricted his movements so Leon counted himself lucky. He checked all his gear and turned back around as Marvin leafed through the pages. “Okay, Lieutenant, I’m ready.”

”Hopefully you’ll be able to find a way out of this station..." Marvin looked back up at Leon, “That officer you met earlier—Elliot? He thought this secret passage might do the trick,” Marvin flipped the notebook around, revealing a crude drawing of what appeared to be three keys opening a passage leading down under the main statue.

Leon perked up. “This is good news. We can get you to a hospital!”

”No, no, I am _not_ the priority here.”

”Lieutenant,” Leon sputtered, “I’m not just going to leave you here!”

”I’m giving you an _order_ , rookie!” Marvin snapped. “You save yourself first.” Marvin clutched his side. “I’d come with you, but I’d just slow you down...” Leon sighed in resignation. Marvin nodded at the noise and reached down, “Now, you’ll need this.” He stood and held out a combat knife.

Leon looked down at it blankly. “I... Can’t take this—“

”Stop.”

Leon looked at Marvin. His face was set, but there was fear in the crease of his eyes. He knew he was probably going to die in here. Pursing his lips, Leon grabbed the knife, “Fine.”

Marvin pulled at it to get Leon’s attention and faced him. “And don’t make my mistake. If you see one of those things—uniform or not—you do not hesitate. You take it out, or you run… Got it?”

Leon bit his lip shortly, and nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Marvin’s face flared with agony and Leon’s hands floundered as the man sat back onto the settee. His breaths came in short, pained huffs. His teeth clenched hard and his eyes screwed shut. Leon’s chest twisted as he looked at Marvin’s struggle. The man seemed to partially lose consciousness and his head lolled back. He was still breathing. Finding the keys to the secret passage wouldn’t hurt Marvin further, so Leon stepped back and thought out his next course of action.

Leon scrubbed his hands over his eyes. Just how long ago had he entered the facility? An hour? Four? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. At this point, he just wanted to get the hell out. Alive, and with Marvin, if possible.

A small thump from behind made Leon jump. Marvin had dropped the notebook. Leon took a quick glance at him. Out cold. Leon unlatched the safety strap from the knife for quick retrieval then bent to retrieve the notebook. He flipped through and saw several more drawings, they didn’t make as much sense as the one detailing the secret passage, but they had to be clues. Leon stuffed it into his pocket. He’d find the keys on his own. Marvin needed to stay here and rest. 

Leon took out his phone and checked the map again. Using the editor, he scribbled a border over the east wing. As much as he didn’t want to go back out there, he may have missed several things, and with Marvin out of it, he couldn’t ask where the weapons’ lockers were. Leon would need to find them on his own. With his limited ammo. Joy. He took out his gun, put several bullets in, cocked it, and holstered it again. Since he didn’t want to go back to the east wing, he figured he ought to go to the west.

Leon walked down the steps to the landing with the front desk. On the opposite side of the gate he’d just escaped from, was another. The control box had been liberally taped over. It was a good thing Leon had a combat knife or pulling off the tape would be long and grueling work. He took out the knife and sliced along the side edge of the tape. With one hand, he opened up the control box door and pulled the activation lever. 

The gate opened deliberately; groaning, creaking and protesting squeaking aplenty as Leon put the knife away and brought his gun up. “This is… Not how I imagined my first day,” Leon grumbled to himself.

The room inside had power, since it was technically attached to the main hall. Leon spotted an herb next to one of the teller counters and picked it up—they were supposed to have super healing abilities—something about changing someone’s inner biochemistry through the enhanced makeup of the herb. Leon thought it was all a bit… Supernatural sounding, but if it worked then Leon would feel a lot safer going through the halls. If not, well, Leon didn’t need to tell anyone he’d been going around eating random desk plants for no reason. He stuffed the leaves into his back pouch and continued on. Barely a step away, just sitting on a waiting chair was a box of ammunition—Leon had half a mind to think it was an unsafe practice before remembering that a lot of damage to the facility had been internal. With luck, more unused ammo boxes would be stashed around the compound as he looked for the keys. He would just need to keep an eye out for them.

Leon walked to the back of the room and past a large half-wall covering a door that lead deeper into the facility. The next room was completely trashed, and unlit. Someone had again either turned off the power in the wing or stole a fuse. The anxiety swelled anew and Leon brought his gun and flashlight up. The first hall that split off was a dead end, stacked to the top with desks, gurneys and chairs that would topple over and alert every zombie in a 5 mile radius if he attempted to climb it, so he continued on. The halls were oddly clean. There was of course a smattering of blood here and there, but so far there hadn’t been anything as hellish as the first wing Leon visited. That fact did nothing to abate his jittering nerves though.

A staticky hiss sounded up ahead, _“This is 73-Bird—for rescue, heading east zzbkzbzzzz river zzkzbzkbbzz touchdown at R.P.D. zzkbzzbz minutes—“_

__

Leon’s flashlight revealed a uniformed man, his walkie talkie blaring loudly and clearly when the static hadn’t taken over. He crouched down, the drone of the walkman fading into white noise as he pushed his hand up against the man’s hanging head, and tipped it up. A cut surfaced, unhinging the man’s lower jaw from the upper part on his right side, the muscle and sinew dribbled as Leon’s hand forced the man’s head up. The milky white eyes gazed at nothing as the man’s mouth hung open like a python, then a slinkie as the rest of the shredded throat and neck slithered halfway down the man’s front. “Oh… Oh what the fuck!?” That was _no_ zombie bite.

__

A clang startled Leon into whipping around, flashlight up and gun shaking slightly. 

__

Looking down the hall revealed… A man. Leon winced as he drew slowly closer. The “man” was hanging suspended from the ceiling. At first Leon thought it might be self-caused but… The amount of blood on the floor under him and the way his neck splayed out like a gory red rorschach said otherwise. Leon readied his gun as he approached, but this one seemed fully dead too. His flashlight caught a glint as he walked past the man’s swinging body, a door. Leon just came into the west wing so it probably led back out to the main hall. Carefully, he put his flashlight under his arm and tested out the door for a possible quick escape. Nope. Locked.

__

Leon took his flashlight back into his hand and continued on. The halls here were nothing like the ones on the east wing. The floors, when not interrupted by dangerous red sprays, were pristine, and gleamed as if they had just been polished. Nothing about it made sense. There was no way that so many people dove for the east wing before becoming those monsters and eating each other alive. What happened in this wing to scare them all off that way?

__

Leon peaked his head into the next room, immediately to his left was a broken window. The cold draft from outside made his hair fly wildly over his face. Leon put his flashlight arm up to cover himself as he continued down the long, wet corridor; there must have been a water leak somewhere, because the entire hall was flooded. It would make running harder. Damn.

__

Leon began to round the corner but jumped when a bang hit the window just in front of him. A zombie snarled from outside, clawing at the window as Leon’s flashlight landed on it. The window was holding up. For now. There was nothing in his immediate vicinity that could be used to block up the window, so he slid his way into the next while while hoping nothing ahead heard the commotion the zombie at the window was making.

__

_Crash!_

__

”Son of a—“ Leon whipped around as the zombie picked it self up from the floor, bits of glass stuck in its rotting flesh and glinted at him menacingly. Leon was torn between shooting the damn thing and letting anything else close by hear where he was, or taking his chances with the combat knife and risk getting glassed while wrestling with the damn thing.

__

Releasing a frustrated sigh, Leon kicked high and caught the zombie in the chest. Something made a wet crackling noise as it fell backwards. Leon immediately pounced, holstering his gun and whipping out his knife with a flash before stabbing it solidly in the head. The zombie’s mouth opened, and it fell limp. Leon pushed himself off, thanking the thick fabric of his riot pants as he swept several glass shards off of himself with the gloved part of his hand. Leon continued on.

__

To the right were a big set of red double doors. Leon pushed into the room and scanned around. Nothing immediately dangerous. A folder caught his eye as he stepped cautiously into the room, and as he brought it towards himself, a key card fell out—it was assigned to a weapons’ locker. Bingo. Leon stashed it in a side pocket—he was running out of room but this was important, and picked the folder up again. “Record of Events”, it read.

__

Leon hummed to himself as he opened it up to the first page.

__

_September 25th_

_We’re turning the station into a temporary shelter due to the massive sudden outbreak. All police personnel have been instructed to make the safety of the citizens their top priority as we try to accommodate as many of them as possible._

_September 25th (addendum)_

_One of the refugees attacked us in the middle of the night, resulting in the death of 1 officer and injuring 3 others. The person in question was quickly restrained. We believe this was simply a case of someone snapping under intense stress._

____

_September 26th_

____

_A mob attacked the station today, resulting in a number of casualties. Survivors were able to make it safely behind the emergency shutters, but surrounded as we were, it’ll be hard for any of us to escape this place. We’re not sure we can fix any of out comm equipment, so we remain cut off from the outside world._

____

_September 27th_

____

_There was another clash on the west side of the station around 1 pm. Twelve people died, and there is only a handful of survivors left. Everything is falling into disarray in here._

____

_David Ford_

__

Leon put the folder down carefully. So there _was_ something that happened in the west wing to scare everyone off. It didn’t sound like everyone had been huddling in the west wing, so it was unlikely that suddenly a great many of the survivors turned and caused a breach, something else must have happened. As Leon considered the situation, he saw a map on a nearby board—a map for the first floor. It had more information on the layout of the place than the one he took on his phone. Zombies were less likely to turn at a soft paper rustling than a bright light emanating from one source so Leon pocketed the map and scanned the board for anything else that might be useful. Nothing.

__

Leon rounded the room and noticed a window on the wall leading back out to the hall past where another dead end led to. There was a slight commotion, so Leon had to be careful climbing up lest it creak and alert his presence to the monster. He shimmied his way out through the window, and perched there silently. A zombie was scratching at a door a fit farther down. Leon let himself fall the remaining few feet from the window and padded over carefully. His foot hit something and made a small jangle. He froze, but the zombie appeared not to hear him. Looking down Leon brightened. It was a box of ammunition. Carefully, he picked it up and slid it into his side pocket, then continued closer to the zombie. 

__

It was a big guy. It was clawing at what Leon now realized was a vending machine—not a door. The action was very odd—zombies didn’t eat snacks, did they? Leon wasn’t about to find out if it was going to choose a fruit bar over his flesh so he readied his knife and crept up behind it. Leon sliced wildly at the back of the zombie’s neck, it gurgled, but Leon was faster, whacking and slashing at it until its head fell partially from its body, and it collapsed to the floor with a wet crack. Leon stepped over it to see into the hall that went forward—dead end.

__

Leon stepped back and paused as he looked at the vending machine. It was mostly empty—probably because no one had a chance to stock it in the last week or so, but there were several packaged goods still sitting behind the glass. Leon’s stomach rumbled in displeasure. He hadn’t ate anything since… Since dinner. Which didn’t sound bad, but after dinner he had been worried about the lack of communication from the R.P.D. and decided to head over, stopping on his way to get gas and a midnight snack before continuing on. Only one of those two things ended up happening, then Leon and Claire had been trapped on the road driving until they got to the city, followed by a long and arduous sequence of events involving lots of physical feats and pushing through his own low energy reserves. It still wasn’t light yet, but Leon didn’t know when that would change. It was raining pretty hard. If the sun came up it might be blocked by the furious gray clouds lining the sky. The time didn't matter, Leon was hungry. He took another quick glance down the hallway he came from, and then the other adjoining hallway that led further into the west wing. Nothing. He turned back to the vending machine, still listening keenly for any activity, and dug some change out of his pocket. Despite how the entire wing’s lights were out, it seemed some sockets still worked around the hall—which meant he could safely operate the machines without breaking the glass and causing a large amount of noise. Eventually, if he were trapped down here too much longer, he’d _have_ to break them, he didn’t bring a hundred quarters, after all, he didn’t know he would _need_ to, but he could hold out until then.

__

Leon pushed four quarters from a side pocket into the machine’s slot, then chose one of the wrapped muffins at the bottom on the machine. They weren’t his favorite, but right now his stomach needed something that would fill it. Chips were all well and good until they were your only means of sustenance, and there were very few chip bags that would be more than halfway full. The muffin dropped to the bottom of the machine and Leon pulled it out with a slight creak. When he didn’t hear anything shambling down the hall for him, he unwrapped the muffin and took several large bites. He deigned licking the crumbs from his fingers—no telling how much nasty grime had accumulated on his fingertips alone—and wiped his hands on his pants before dropped the plastic wrap to the floor.

__

Leon wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and brought his knife and flashlight up again. Time to keep moving. He stepped over another prone, sliced up body and entered a room to his right labeled "Warden's Office". Leon paused at the threshold. Despite the doom and gloom and the off-kilter desks that made an island in the center of the room, there were streamers hanging from the ceiling. A banner spanning several feet long read "Welcome Leon" in blocky, generic text. Leon swallowed and stepped forward. On the desk right in front of him was gun powder and notes on the uses of gunpowder. Leon slid the notes away. He didn’t need a tutorial on how t use gunpowder—he was a rookie cop, not an idiot, but he did take the gunpowder. There were many lockers and desks in the room. There was a side room with another dead body. Leon tapped at it with his boot, and got no response. In the corner of the room was a safe—Leon didn’t know the combination to it so he left. Back in the main room he found another folder, it read “Operation Report”. It looked like a continuation of the last folder he’d read. Leon flipped through the papers.

__

_September 28 2:30 am_

____

_It’s down to just me and 3 others. No weapons… no ammo… and too many skirmishes have drained us mentally and physically. We’re not gonna make it… Officer Phillips once suggested we escape through the sewers. Apparently, there’s a secret tunnel under this place left from its museum days. I brushed her idea off before, but now, it’s not sounding all that bad. Yeah, there’s no proof there’s even a tunnel or that the sewers aren’t infested with zombies, but I don’t wanna sit here and wait to die either._

____

_It’s a long shot, but I’m gonna try to find out what I can about that tunnel._

____

_Elliot Edward._

__

Elliot. That was the man Leon took the notebook from. He mentioned “me and 3 others”, it must have been him, Marvin, and a man named… David, was it? Wait, there had been another series of notes from a man named David Ford. Maybe Elliot had continued recording what had been happening once he, David and Marvin found each other. However, Leon remembered Elliot said two names while running in the east wing. Who was the third person? Leon scowled at the papers; the third person was likely also dead and rotting in this place. It was just Marvin and Leon now, and even then, Marvin had been fatally wounded and was currently dying in the main hall. None of this was any help right now.

__

Leon shut the folder and looked back around the room as a form got up from a desk. It snarled at him and he hurried around the circle of desks to slash at its throat. Again, with the head missing in action, the body fell back and crumpled to the floor. The head gnashed its teeth several more times before seemingly dying its final death. At least Leon had a good way of effectively getting rid of zombies—until the knife broke anyways. It was already getting dull from the hacking and sewing Leon had been doing. He needed to use it carefully until he found another. 

Another note caught Leon's eye as he went back to the end of the room. His brow furrowed. It had his name on it. Leon picked the paper up and squinted at it in the near darkness.

_Leon S. Kennedy, we're putting you on a very special case for your first assignment._

_Your mission is to... unlock your desk! The key to your success is in the initials of our first names. Input the letters in order of our desks. There are 2 locks—1 on each side of your desk. Make sure you get them both._

_Basically your first task is to remember your fellow officers' names, but you figured that much out, right?_

_Good luck, Leon._

_By the way, it might take a little work to get Scott to give you a straight answer._

_Lieutenant Branagh_

Marvin set up a coworker egg hunt? For Leon? His heart twisted a little beneath his ribs. These were people getting ready to work with him... He had a desk already set up and games to play with his new unit. Not for the first time, Leon cursed at the timing of it all. If the outbreak had happened just a while later maybe he would have been here to help. Leon shook himself. No. He was one man. He'd been lucky he hadn't been here when everything went down. If the entire department had suffered this fate while trapped in the facility, who was to say Leon wouldn't have died with them? He needed to count his blessings and keep his eyes sharp lest he end up rotting with the rest of the people who'd been trapped here.

Leon looked back down at the paper and froze. At the bottom, in shaky script, was another note.

_Be glad you're not here, rookie._

__

Leon exhaled shakily, and put down the paper. He looked down at the unopened desk the paper was on. Supposedly, it was his. Just as the note read, there were two letter locks on each side of the desk where he would need to input the first initials of the people he was going to be working with. Would have been working with. He rounded the right side first. Marvin. Rita. A desk with no name plaque that must have belonged to Scott. Rounding the other side, Leon read the last three names. Neil. Elliot. David. Finally, he made it back to his desk, inputting N.E.D. onto one lock, and M.R.S. onto the other. They both unlocked easily; Leon pulled them off the the desk and slid the top open with finality. On the desk was Leon's own name plaque, a high capacity magazine, and a specialized handgun, along with an assortment of brand-new, never used folders, plastic paper protectors, pens and hardcover binders. He picked up the gun and magazine and loaded up the magazine. In the corner of the desk, partially hidden behind one of the binders was a gag book, _How to be a Cop for Dummies_. It was so stupid. Leon pocketed it and turned around.

At the back of the room was a final door. It was locked when Leon tried it, and it probably lead out to the main hall. Damn. Just his luck. Leon exited the room. A zombie on the ground growled and grabbed his ankle, but Leon stuck it quickly. He shook its lifeless grasp from his leg in disgust and shone his flashlight back up. Right across the hall was another double door, green this time. 

__

When Leon entered it, he immediately knew what it was—weapons’ lockers. He grunted and grumbled to himself as he saw all the ammo and weapons but knew he was unable to grab any without having their specific codes, but when he got to the back he sighed in relief. A locker with a card reader. Leon pulled the key card from his side pocket and slid it into the reader, it beeped cheerfully and turned green, unlocking the cabinet. Most of the weapons were gone, already picked of by officers or survivors who had found other key cards before him, but Leon did snag an impressive looking shotgun along with a large amount of shotgun shells. This would do a lot more damage than his pistol, and hopefully he wouldn’t need to waste as much ammo with it. Still standing at the locker, Leon looked over the shotgun and held it up to the light. It was well polished, almost brand new. He quickly loaded up the gun with the ammunition he found and clicked it back into place before cocking it. It felt powerful in his hands. For the first time since he left his house, Leon smiled. He briskly walked back down the length of the room but paused before going out of the door. He stood facing the pin machine at the front of the room. The machine and lockers looked electronically powered. Connected maybe. He leaned over to look at the locker numbers and, on a whim, input the number of the first locker he saw into the machine at the front. 1. 0. 7. Enter. _Beep!_. Leon looked back around to the locker in surprise and saw that it was open. Leon's smiled again and checked the other lockers, making note internally of which ones had things in them after looting the ammunition from the first locker. He went back to the front machine and input the locker numbers of several filled lockers and listened as they clicked into their unlocked state. Leon rounded the room again, taking several herbs, more ammunition, and a battery before going back out into the hall.

__

The farther he got the louder banging could be heard. Right in front of Leon was another window, a zombie insistently rapping on the weak pane. It was going to break and soon. Leon readied his new shot gun when he realized there were several boards right next to the window—someone had already been planning on boarding it up. Nice. Leon slung the shotgun over his shoulder with a strap and grabbed the boards. They already had nails in them so Leon just held the board up to the window and hammered the nails in with the back of his combat knife, effectively trapping the zombie outside.

__

Leon surveyed the area beyond the window. There was a landing leading up several flights, and there was a door that looked like it went to a utility closet. Leon mused shortly about the longevity of the battery life of his flashlight and decided it would be worth a look around. He opened the door to the closet and revealed a room instead of a closet—desk and all. On the desk there was another herb plant. Leon took a handful of the leaves before noticing a folder on the desk labeled “Medicinal Uses of Herbs”. Oh good. He wasn’t just eating random office plants for no reason. Leon flipped open the folder.

__

_Humans have used herbs to treat sickness and disease since the dawn of time. In this book, we will explore three such herbs native to the Arklay Mountains._

____

_Green herbs have the ability to heal basic injuries while blue herbs have long been used to treat poisoning._

____

_As for red herbs, while they are visually appealing, they offer no medicinal benefits. Or so it was thought until recently._

____

_It’s well-known that combining herbs together produces blends that heighten the herbs’ effects but it has been discovered that red herbs can play a big role when mixed properly._

_According to one doctor of Asian medicine, mixing blue and red herbs together produced a blend that will strengthen one’s constitution._

_Truly, we have only just begun to realize the full potential of these herbs and their ability to heal the human body. Further research is sure to yield even more fascinating results._

Well, great to know he’s been eating plants that have only _recently_ been identified as useless. Leon fished around in his pocket and retrieved a handful of herbs. There were blue, green _and_ red leaves mixed around. Whoops. Hopefully a full combination of all three wouldn’t kill him—he should consider putting them in different pockets...

__

Stuffing them back in, Leon rounded the desk to access some lockers. They were, miraculously, open. In one locker was more gun powder, in another were some batteries and a full box of pistol ammo. Leon put all three into their respective pockets before heading to a back room. A sign to the right read “Film contains evidence, do not leave out!”. It must have been a darkroom for photo processing. On the table to his left was another herb plant, red this time. Despite his earlier misgivings about mixing all the herbs together, he tossed the new leaves into the same mix as before. He looked into the sink. Evidence. Not something Leon could use, but there was stuff in there that would help with a case. If anyone ever got around to it anyways. 

__

Leon exited the utility closet and climbed up the stairs. They creaked beneath his feet no matter how lightly he stepped, so he just ran up them. A zombie a flight up heard him and began walking down from another set of stairs to the side. Leon brought up his shotgun and took a potshot. The zombie stumbled and fell, the spray of the shotty doing it off despite how little effort Leon put into aiming it. Just to make sure, Leon went up the stairs partially to stick the downed zombie in the head with his combat knife, before going back down to the second floor landing. 

__

There was a hallway leading in. Leon entered the first door into a bathroom. There were a good few lockers inside, many had locks on them. Three didn’t. Leon clicked the first locker open and swung the door out. He yelped as a body came tumbling out. Leon jumped to the far end of the room, banging his back against the chunky combination locks, but the body didn’t get up. Leon sighed at himself for startling so badly over nothing and gave the corpse a kick to the head. Leon calmed his breathing as he checked the rest of the lockers There were shotgun shells in another unlocked locker, and nothing in the other. One locker had several Marvel and Captain America stickers on it. Leon raised a brow and tried the lock. C. A. P. It unlocked and Leon rolled his eyes. His skills of deduction were for naught though, as the locker had nothing inside. At the end of the line of lockers was a note taped to the wall.

_Press a button to light up its corresponding lamp. Light them all to open the safe._

_The buttons must be pressed in a certain order. Pressing a single button out of order will cause all of the lights to go out and you will need to start the sequence over again._

Leon shook his head. This department had too much time on their hands. Or maybe this was something else they were planning for Leon's introduction into the R.P.D. Give him quests to learn his coworker's names, then explore the department and turn on a series of lights in important rooms so he wouldn't forget later, then give him a little surprise at the end for figuring it out. Leon sighed and turned to the back of the room, where heavy steam was pouring liberally from a pipe. Leon got closer and was hit by a very warm gust the closer he got—the steam was boiling, and he would hurt himself a lot if he tried to just run through it. To the side of the doorway with the steam was a pipe missing the turn piece which would shut off the steam. Leon’s eyes narrowed. More subterfuge.

__

Leon went back out into the hall. There was a dead end the further he went, but there was also a red herb plant. He patted at his pouch to feel if it would hold anymore herbs, but it was pretty full up. Leon checked his other pockets, herbs, herbs, shells, key, loose change, two carts of gunpowder—oh that was easy. Leon took the shells out of one pocket and one cart of powder out of the other, he combined them quickly in the middle of the hall then put the new shotgun ammo with the rest. With a pocket now open for use, Leon took the leaves from the red herb and tossed them in. So far he hadn’t needed to eat any of them, but if he got majorly hurt he would have plenty to munch on to bring his strength back up. Maybe he could even eat some of the red herbs on their own if his stomach got too empty. It was a thought for another time.

__

Leon headed back to the landing and went up the next set of stairs. These were less creaky, probably from lack of use, and went up the landing on the third floor to get to the landing on the fourth. The fourth floor had a long hallway going back into the facility. On a desk and waiting chair sitting right on the landing were more pistol ammo. Leon was thankful that he was stocking up on so much, it would probably save him later. As Leon thought about his luck in finding all that material, he thought of Clair—the woman he’d brought with him to hole up in the station. He hoped she was doing all right and wasn’t out there on the streets shambling and rotting with the rest of the monsters out there.

__

Leon continued down the hall. In front of him were several locked lockers, and a room to the right. On the desk in the room was a single light illuminating a key. Leon picked it up. It was a standard lock key with two characters “W5” inscribed on the head. It must be a key to the west wing doors leading back to the main hall. Finally. Leon pocketed the key in his key pouch, he had two others in there, one was the key card for the weapons locker and one for the cruiser he left outside the front of the building. If push came to shove he would probably ditch both keys to make room for more useful ones—it wasn’t like he was likely to get that cruiser back with the way things were. Heading out a door at the back of the room revealed another hallway. There were two ways to go, left and forward. The left hall was blocked by a large stack of items, but the way forward was free of debris.

__

A mangled, gurgling snarl sounded down the hall. Leon jumped and readied his gun. “What in the…?”

__

A crash sounded ahead in an adjoining hallway. Leon quickly crept closer. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end as _something_ skittered around. Leon turned into the next hall, but saw nothing. He continued to slide farther into the hall. No broken window. Whatever it was, it must have went in another way. Next to a door was a note laying on the floor. Leon picked it up.

_To any survivors,_

_Consider this a gift for anyone still unfortunate enough to be alive._

_Keep your eyes peeled for those creepy fucks that look like they were skinned alive—"lickers," we call 'em. They're blind as bats, but their hearing more than makes up for that._

_So long as you don't run around like a total idiot, guns-a-blazing, you should be able to slip right by them... probably._

_Either way, make like my grandma and creep around as slow as possible around 'em, yeah?_

_Anyway, not that I wanna go, but duty calls._

_That, and I've got a friend to avenge._

_David._

Another note from David. At least Leon had a name for the thing he just heard. Licker. Didn't sound too appealing—though from their description they looked about as good as they sounded. Leon pocketed the note and entered the first door. The room was a mess. It might have been a records room or some sort of storage room in the past; there were papers strew about, completely covering the ground save for a couple of tiles, and generic office supplies cluttered the sides of the room. Leon picked up some gun power on a side table which had partially spilled, and several intact shells on the floor. Someone had been in a hurry to load those shells and leave, but hadn’t managed to get all of them. The red streak leading from Leon’s place standing next to the gunpowder and back to the hallway door was very foreboding. Leon turned around. At the back of the room was an area with a large gate protecting more boxes of paper records. The hall continued from there.

__

Leon walked over and narrowed his eyes. There were many closed off areas protected by slated metal gates. He went down the first right path and his stomach clenched in fear. Finally, the first true sign of gore. The far wall and floor were splattered with blood. There was a large, drying pool of red on the floor soaking into the cheap carpet. Leon took a breath and looked down the hall, where more blood dripped from the walls to the floor and, in several cases, back up to the wall, as if something had dragged a body up the wall and played with it there. There were C4 plastic explosives, unarmed, on a wall that had been completely boarded up. Leon ignored the uneasy feeling he had and looked back down the next hall. On the desk were several lined papers written on in all capital letters. Leon picked it up.

__

_Damn those corporate assholes! They cut me off! After all I’ve done for them! But if that’s how it’s gonna be, so be it. I’m gonna have a little fun of my own as the world goes to shit._

____

_I boarded all those filthy pics up in a steel pen, and set some C4. All I gotta do I detonate it and it’s “sayonara suckers”!_

____

_But it’s no fun it it’s over too soon, so maybe I’ll give that one raving loon something to really squeal about._

____

_Yeah, maybe I’ll give him a little toy and tell him “Kill the guy next to you and I’ll spare the others.” I wonder what he’ll do._

____

_You yell about “justice” and “pride” but how many times did you go against me, your own superior?_

____

_Yeah you’re such a good cop… So good you had to die._

____

_Man this is fun. I need some music for this._

__

The hell, shit, and fuck?

__

Leon scanned the letter several more times before realizing he wasn’t hallucinating. The man who wrote the letter went rogue and trapped his own peers and subordinates into a “pen” and was planning on blowing them up. Obviously, that hadn’t happened. Did that mean there were still people in there? Leon didn’t hear anything when he was checking the C4… Maybe they made it out? It was unlikely, but Leon didn’t know if he could stomach thinking about so many people starving to death and eating each other. Unable to escape the hungry maws of their friends as they turned savage and ravenous around them in that tiny enclosed space. 

__

Leon put down the papers and noticed something else on the desk. A hip pouch. As much as he didn’t want to touch anything that psycho left behind, Leon did admit to himself that he needed more pocket space. There were only two pouches, but they were both big. Leon strapped it to his belt and transferred his pistol and shotgun ammo to both pouches, they now had more space and he now had more room to put in smaller items like keys and herbs. It was a consolation of sorts. 

Leon needed to keep going. He kept his head straight as he passed the metal portion of the “pen” he didn’t want to see what was in there, and carried on into the next room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta we die like idiots  
> I'm trying to keep everything as close to my own gaming experience as possible, but be warned i'll probably be changing at least SOME dialogue or feels of cutscenes just cause i dont want there to be romantic hints, especially between Leon and any female characters like Claire or Ada, just wanted to make a note of that because Claire is going to be making her first in-fic appearance in the next chapter (so i'm going to add her to the tags just to warn people she does come up lmao), just wanted to give a heads up about that! anyhow, enjoy the fic! its uhhhh going to be a long one lmao


	3. The Monsters of the West Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon comes into contact with something he'd rather not have...

Leon entered a door at the back of the hall and came face to face with… A library? Leon’s eyes swept over the room. It was spacious, dimly lit, and there were shelves upon shelves of old tomes about laws, rights and medical know-how. As he peered over the edge of the railing leading down to another floor of the library, his walkman buzzed to life.

”Leon? It’s Marvin. I need you back here ASAP.”

Leon grabbed the walkman as he stared down. At the bottom of the ladder near the railing were a group of feasting zombies. “Are you okay, Marvin?”

”I’ve got something to show you. It’s important.”

”Copy that, I’ll be right there.” Leon took his hand off the walkman and padded over the walkway that lead to the other side of the library. There was a stairway leading down. He looked back down at the zombies. Still eating.

Leon took the map out of his pocket. He had been going up and down stairs for a while now, heading farther into the facility. The library he was in was fairly close to the main hall. It would take longer to double back and get to Marvin from the west wing entrance than it would to just follow the library back to the main hall. Assuming, of course, that the door leading back wasn’t locked. Leon pursed his lips. He should have tried out all the doors before going anywhere; now there was no telling where he’d be able to get in from. With hope, if the door was locked it would need key W5 to open it—the only key Leon managed to find while dodging zombies.

There was something nagging at the back of Leon’s mind. Back in the hall leading to the “pen room”, he heard something he’d never heard before. A skittering, hissing noise from something supposedly called a “licker”. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a normal zombie. Zombies didn’t move that like. Leon thought about the sliced, slashed and heavily cut bodies of the officers he saw when he first entered the west wing and shuddered. Leon didn’t feel like putting a face to the name anytime soon.

Leon trudged down the stairs. Three zombies were at the bottom, independent from the group eating at the far end of the library. Leon could shoot them but two were way too close and the noise would draw the other pack of zombies right to him. He didn’t feel like getting overwhelmed so close to the main hall. There were two ways to leave, a door immediately to his right under the stairs, and a set of double doors that likely led back to the main hall. Leon snuck past the first two zombies, then opened and closed the stairway door behind him. It was very ornately furnished, it seemed a lounge area for the people who worked in the library. There was a statue in the middle of the room, and seeing it made Leon pause. It was… Very familiar. Leon took Eliot's notebook from his pocket and flipped through the pages until he landed on a spreadpage of three figures with small symbols underneath. One of them was a horse statue, the same as the one right before him. Looking closer at the intricate gold paneling, he realized it was a big combination lock. Leon looked back at the notebook. Fish. Scorpion. Pouch. He turned the paneling until they matched, and the statue groaned ominously, and the medallion in the center of the panel popped up. Leon grabbed it. It was warm in his hand. Nervously, Leon stuffed it in one of the larger pockets along with his ammo and left the room.

The three zombies from before perked up as Leon made his return and he ran to his right to reach the double doors. He put his hand on the knob but it wobbled obstinately in place. It was locked. “Shit!” Leon hissed. A zombie came up from his left and he pushed it back, nearly getting bit in the face. He hastily took the only west wing key he had out of his side pocket and slid it into the lock. It clicked. Leon almost cried of joy and he quickly opened the door inwards, foot knocking a book into the room with him, then slammed it shut behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief. A quick look revealed that he was in the main hall again.

Leon was on the second floor landing at the side of the hall. He looked down past the railing and spotted Marvin. The zombies pounded at the door behind him, but it was sturdy; it would hold them for a while yet, and when they got bored they would leave. Leon started forwards but kicked something. Looking down, he realized it was… A book? He picked it up. It felt almost hollow, and was more of an ornamental box than a book upon closer inspection. Leon opened it up and took out several leafs of paper, most were maps for the upper floors of the building. He gladly stashed them and looked back at the box. It seemed important, so Leon tucked it under his arm and made his way to the stairs heading to the main hall landing. 

Before he made his way down, a statue at the very back of the landing caught his eye, and it was also familiar. Leon fished out the notebook from his pocket for the second time and scanned for the statue’s likeness. It was a good thing Eliot was an artist. Leon checked the combination for the lion statue. Lion. Branch. Eagle. The panel on the lion’s statue groaned and popped the medallion from it’s place. Leon grabbed it and put it with the first, then went down the stairs to the first floor.

Marvin was on the settee, still typing away at the laptop. At some point he must have woken up to get things done and check up on Leon. Most of the screen was filled with camera views. Marvin had probably been searching for something when he realized he needed Leon to come back.

Marvin looked up as he heard Leon set the book down on a nearby gurney. “There you are. Come here, take a look.” Marvin faced the laptop out towards Leon and focused on a single security feed. Through the sepia, Leon could a woman standing at a gate near the outside edge of the facility, but safely out of harm’s way.

Leon grinned when he saw her. It was Claire. “Yes! I knew she’d make it!”

Marvin’s brow rose, “You know her?”

Leon nodded, still staring at the screen as she tested the gate, “Yeah. Her name’s Claire. I came into town with her.”

”You can get to that courtyard through the second floor. East side.”

”Leon stood up from the laptop. “I’m on it!” Before he took a step he paused and looked at Marvin, “Thanks, lieutenant.”

Leon padded his way up to the main statue in the hall. There were three circular indentations in the paneling where the medallions would fit. He stopped in front of it. He should put the medallions in while he’s here—he wouldn’t be at risk of losing them if he did. Leon reached into the large side pocket and pulled out both medallions. He slid the first into place and was about to place the second when the entire fixture rattled and came undone. The front part of the statue sank into the floor, unleashing a hail of dirt and dust and crumbling marble as it went down and revealed part of a slatted gate. Marvin had turned to look at the noise and his eyes bugged out in surprise. Leon was sure he didn’t look any more impressive than the lieutenant did. Gulping, Leon placed the second medallion, and the upper portion of the statue’s base slid back into the wall, as if part of an elaborate locking mechanism.

”Well I’ll be damned, Elliot was right,” Marvin said softly behind Leon. His hands clutched at the seat of the settee.

Leon looked back at Marin shortly and nodded, “Yeah, but the passage isn’t open yet.” Marvin hummed and Leon made his way back to the stairs. He wasn’t expecting such a big effect so soon, but it was good to know that everything he was doing wasn’t for nothing. Even if Eliot was wrong about where the passage lead, at least it went _somewhere_. Leon bounded back up the stairs. Marvin said he’d be able to get to Claire from the second story landing on the east side, opposite of the library wing.

Leon was surprised to enter a nicely furnished office space. It was lit brightly and seemed untouched by the horrors of the rest of the facility. A green herb sat on the desk next to a pamphlet of the city. Leon picked the leaves from the herb and half turned to marvel at the clean state of the office. It was almost like everything was still okay. As if Leon had just been hallucinating all of the sickness he’d seen and was back to a place of safety and normalcy. It was horrific. 

There was a vending machine near the door Leon just came from and he jogged back to it. This one was almost fully stocked and Leon licked his lips at the sight. He began to reach for his back pocket when he remembered that the main hall was right next door. He wasn’t in any danger of something hearing him and killing him while he tried not to starve to death. Looking around, Leon spotted a long name plaque that some corporate paper pusher used to have and jammed it into the side of the plastic-glass where it met the panel of the machine. Leon pushed hard and it half shattered. Beaming, he used the plaque to shatter the rest of it before throwing it to the side and grabbing as much as he could from the machine. He dropped four bags of crunchies, five food bars, another wrapped muffin and a couple of soda bottles onto the floor before going back and opening the door. He looked down the railing and saw Marvin half standing, wondering what in the hell caused all that racket and Leon pelted the snacks down at him. Marvin yelped and stepped out of the way of several bottles of soda but Leon managed to nail him over the head with one of the chip bags. Marvin stared up at him and opened his arms as if to say “are you done yet” but it was clear from his expression that he was happy for the distraction and the food. Leon waved back at him and went back into the office, closing the door behind him just in case something _did_ happen.

With Marvin’s needs out of the way, Leon plopped down on the cushy waiting chair and grabbed his snacks off of the floor. He opened one of the soda bottles, it sprayed a bit over his hands and he stopped himself last second from licking his disgusting, blood crusted fingers. Instead, Leon put his lips up to the clean head of the bottle and let the horrible, sugary, carbonated drink fill his mouth and wash down the dryness of his throat. He took several long gulps, and put the bottle down half as full as it was before. He then ripped open a bag of generic potato chips and tipped the bag up into his mouth. Leon washed it down with another quick gulp of his soda and picked at the gunk between his teeth with his tongue while he opened a second bag. This one was more of a hot cheesy snack and Leon crunched at them as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. He loved spicy foods but he could hardly handle them. He licked his lips and took another couple of gulps from his soda until it ran out. He shoved the rest of the spicy snacks into his mouth and opened the next soda bottle, guzzling down the burn with more of that sweet carbohydrate flavor. Yum. Leon did another round of tonguing the mush from around his teeth while he picked up the rest of the snacks. The muffin and both food bars went into the second big pocket. He swiped the eaten bags off of the table and put the other chip and snacks bags in the center with the other unopened soda bottle. As much as he would love to take them with him, Leon knew realistically that it would be dangerous to open a chip bag while surrounded by a dozen zombies.

Leon zipped up the pouch and brushed the crumbs off of his pants and vest. He licked the rest off of his lips and tried the door at the far end of the room only to find it locked. On a hunch, he put the W5 key into the door and gave it a turn. It unlocked. Huh. Maybe the “w” didn’t stand for “west”. It was just for a specific set of doors with a “w” clearance. Made sense.

Leon pocketed the key and brought up his flashlight and his knife. Back into the frying pan. The hall went in two directions, left and right, and continued on both ways. Like the west wing, the place was suspiciously pristine. Leon decided to go left first, no harm if he went the wrong way, he would end up where he needed to go eventually. At the end of the hall there was a stack of boards. He picked them up and put them into the sling of his shotgun, if there was a window he needed to board up he’d use them. Looking into the next hall revealed a dead end with a gate. The activation box was missing something, that much Leon could tell. He leaned back into the first hall and went into a red door. 

Inside were statues and pots, things covered up and dusty—things that were probably from the building back when it was an art museum. Near a curator’s desk was a magazine, it was flipped open to a page on some red rock.

_The ruby that captivated Edward the Black Prince, the pearl that the queen of the Nile milked dry, the diamond that had a queen to the guillotine—there is no end to the number of tales related to the appeal of jewels._

_This mysterious red stone is simply the latest to sparkle among them._

_Like those other jewels, this one’s origin is unknown. It’s said that it once adorned a noblewoman’s jeweled box and was even dedicated to a wise king._

_This fall, this stone that’s long been shrouded in legend will be on display during auction. There are sure to be many eager enthusiasts there._

_But, dear reader, one would do well to approach with care, for devilry lies in beauty’s shadow. This jewel has turned caring nobles who love their subjects into despots more terrible than Caligula, and we have the tales to prove it. Seriously, it’s precisely while these jewels are bathed in blood that their luster stirs something in the hearts of people everywhere._

How foreboding. Leon pushed the magazine away and his eyes widened in surprise as something peaked out from underneath. He pulled the card from under the magazine fully. A business card for a very revealing showman’s club—if the sexily posed silhouette of the man was anything to go by. Quietly, Leon slipped it into a pocket on his vest. Just for safe keeping, of course. 

Leon walked to the other end of the room, looking carefully at all the old statues and historical relics. On a crate near the back of the room was an arm to a statue. The statue right next to it was, unsurprisingly, missing an arm. Leon’s lips twitched upwards despite himself. Trust cops to break off an entire arm to a thing that was probably a thousand years old and more expensive than their rich grandmother’s house. Leon took the arm and held it up to the statue to see what it would like like with it back on, and gasped lowly as it stuck in place. Okaaaaay… Weird. 

Leon backed out of the room away from the creepy magical statue and into the hall. He blinked, standing in the hall as he remembered the ornamental book he’d found in the library. The statue had been holding a scepter with a red jewel; along with a red book one might even say it would look complete. Leon went back to the office that oversaw the main hall, then back into the main hall. It figured that some rookie cops—maybe not unlike himself—would break the statue while trying to move it and drop both the arm and one of the ornaments that came with the arm, leaving someone to put the ornament, which looked like a book, in the library so it could be properly sorted.

Leon padded his way down to the first landing and smiled when he saw Marvin still eating from one of the chip bags Leon threw down earlier. He went to the gurney where he put the “book”. Still there. Leon picked it up, waved at the lieutenant with it, and went back up the stairs, into the office and into the old relic room.

He held the book up to the arm, and again, it stuck automatically. The statue seemed to hum as it protectively held the book back up against its chest, its other arm falling low and opening. With nothing to support it, the scepter tipped over and out of the statue’s hand. “Whoa!” Leon yelped as he caught it mid-air. He held it to his chest and looked back up at the statue. “Uh… Uh, thanks…?” The statue didn’t respond.

Leon swallowed dryly and again backed out into the hall. He shook himself and put the scepter onto his sash for safekeeping. He went down the right hall and passed by several doors. 

As Leon fully rounded the corner, he heard a faint buzzing, which soon grew into a drone, and then a loud, fast whirl. At the end of the hall was a door going outside. As the noise drew closer and more frantic, a bright light flashed by the door and Leon stumbled as something giant crashed into the station. What the fuck!?

Leon rushed to the door, ignoring the hallway that continued to the left. He skidded to a stop outside the door and his jaw dropped. Embedded deep into the side of the station was a helicopter. It smoked despairingly and hung suspended. He clenched his teeth. He could have been standing there when it crashed if he hadn’t gone to help the statue get its book back. Leon stepped closer, flinching as the downed copter sizzled and sparked at him. He shone his flashlight over it to catch all the damage when—

”Hey! Leon!”

Leon’s head whipped around. He ran over to the railing which he now realized overlooked the courtyard, and he saw a familiar figure. “Claire!” He called down. “Hold on, I’ll be right there!”

Claire smiled up at him, “Okay!”

Leon bounced happily down the stairs next to the helicopter. There was a small area where someone could stand and unlock the courtyard gate, and a door to the side which he ignored in favor of hurrying over to the opposite side of the gate. Unbeknownst to Leon, the rain and sparks from the helicopter met and started an electrical fire, slowly overtaking the aircraft.

Claire jiggled the gate as Leon stood in front of her. “Claire! It’s… Nice to see you!” To be honest he didn’t know how she’d made it so far. He didn’t know if she’d be able to get in through the side entrance, not with how many zombies were tailing them the last time they saw each other.

”How’re you doing? That helicopter just came out of nowhere...”

”Yeah,” Leon laughed nervously, “I’m in one piece” He’d been _dangerously_ close to _not_ being in one piece, but that was neither here nor there.

Claire looked him up and down, probably just now seeing the get-up Leon was in. “I’m guessing you don’t have a key in one of those fancy pockets?”

Leon sighed, “Unfortunately, no. But, how are you doing?”

”You know,” Claire muttered, leaning up against the gate faux casually, “Just… Surviving...” Little talk didn’t seem to be either of their strong suites.

Leon gave another nervous laugh, “That’s… Good.” He paused. “Any luck with your brother?”

”No, not yet.”

”Claire, don’t lose hope. I’m sure we’re gonna find him—“

The helicopter burst into flames behind Leon.

”Whoa!” Leon pushed up against the gate as the heat of the aircraft wafted down on him. “Dammit!” An alarm rang all around the outside of the facility. Panicked, Leon looked back at Claire, “You know what that means...” 

”Yeah,” Claire turned back to the open courtyard. “Dinner time...” 

On cue, several zombies rose from the pavement, snarling and gnashing their rotting jaws.

Leon’s eyes darted around, counting the zombies still in the courtyard. “Claire, I think you should go—“

”Don’t worry about me, Leon,” Claire huffed, “You take care of yourself.”

Leon caught sight of zombies banging against the gates surrounding the courtyard. They wouldn’t hold up if enough came. “Claire, you need to go— _now!”_

Claire turned, fear marring her face. She stepped away from the gate but turned back. “Hey! Let’s get through this.” She looked him in the eye. “Both of us.”

Leon nodded and Claire took off. He watched anxiously as she dodged several zombies and made her way to another gated area, probably looking for another way in. Leon hoped that she would find one.

The alarms stopped. The zombies outside the courtyard were slow to disburse but Leon had bigger plans in mind. He took hold of the door to the gate and rattled it harshly, catching the attention of several zombies that were chasing after Claire. It was as much help as he could provide. The zombies limped over, grabbing at the gate and growling at him hungrily. Leon shook his head at them and looked back up at the helicopter, the flames slowly died out after the initial panic, and Leon was sure he needed to get through that way.

Leon grabbed his walkman and pressed the comm button. “Uh, Marvin, I’ve got a situation here, I’m surrounded by zombies.” A pause. “Marvin? Do you copy? Marvin!?” Still no response. Leon exhaled forcefully, “Dammit…!”

Leon turned back around, there were another couple of boards sitting near the gate. He picked them up and put them with the rest along his back. There was a door next to the stairs, and near the door was a large cutting tool. He was about to walk by it when he remembered there had been several doors in the east and west wing that were locked with heavy chains. He might be able to cut them with the tool if he were careful. Leon took it and fanagled it onto his back with the boards. It would make taking the boards off the strap slower but at least he had something to use when he saw those heavy chains again.

Leon looked back at the door and realized he could test the cutting tool right then—the handle was chained up to a nearby pipe. Leon struggled to take the cutting tool off his back, then positioned it carefully and snapped one of the chains in half, unraveling the whole thing. He hummed in success and put it away again. 

Leon opened the door and peaked inside. His brow furrowed. It was very familiar. Looking around, he saw a zombie dead on the floor next to a window, and a small room with a partially opened gate; half of a man lay motionless just in front of it. Elliot. Leon was back in the first floor of the east wing.Leon padded into the room. He killed everything the last time he was in here, but it didn’t mean more hadn’t came after. He crept to the far end of the room and caught sight of the first door he ever saw with a heavy chain on it. As quietly as he could, Leon took the cutting tool from his sash and cut the chains, catching them before they hit the ground and lowering them carefully the rest of the way down. Inside was another office area. A uniformed zombie crawled on the ground in front of him and grabbed his leg, and he shot several bullets at it until a shot landed. Shit! He panicked.

A sudden rapping started at the window. A zombie hammered at the creaking glass and threw its body against the wall. Leon hurried over and fumbled with the boards. The glass shattered and Leon held the board over his face to guard from the rain of glass. The zombie grabbed the board and he shoved it in its face, quickly nailed it in, and put two more boards up on quick succession. The zombie grabbed at him from behind its new wooden prison, but unless Leon was stupid and particularly slow, it wouldn’t be able to grab him and kill him.

Leon shook himself and looked back around the room. He picked up two carts of gunpowder from a desk nearby and handgun ammo from another. On a desk at the far corner of the room was a fuse, likely going to the gate to enter the east wing’s first floor. With it in place, the rest of the gate would rise up, allowing Leon to come and go from the wing as he pleased. The double red doors right next to it had a chair pushed up against the knob, stopping anyone from coming in. Leon paused in taking the chair from the door to look at the tiny room at the side of the office. Inside was yet another very important item—a gas valve clutch. It probably fit the pipe in the west wing that was blasting boiling steam. Leon bit his lip as he considered where to stash it. Leon tapped his foot, hemmed and hawed but In the end just took out his knife and latched the safety strap to the knife in between the handle of the clutch. If he didn’t run too much it would stay in place.

Leon took the chair from out beneath the knob of the door and opened it. He was right next to the east wing gate. Just as he suspected. The power box was right in front of him and he wasted no time in taking the fuse out of his pocket and sticking it into the control box before powering it on. The gate hummed and opened up all the way.

Leon ran into the main hall, his head whipped around left and right, looking for Marvin. He ran up part of the landing to get to the area with the settee. He ran around the medical dividers and skidded to a halt right in front of the settee. Marvin had laid down on it, his body protected from being seen by the high back. Leon breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the rise and fall of Marvin’s chest. “Still alive,” he mumbled to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Leon stared at Marvin a moment longer, then ran back up to the second landing. He went back to the west side and entered the library. There were no new arrivals so Leon ran back to the stairs leading to the top floor and back into the “pen” room, still resolutely ignoring the cage and whatever inhabitants it might still harbor. Leon more carefully padded down the adjoining hallway until he got back to the inner landing, and down to the floor with the men’s bathroom.

Leon walked up to the pipe with the missing clutch and put in the one he’d picked up in the east wing. With a grunt he turned the handle until the steam completely shut off. He wiped his brow and entered the next room. Showers lined the sides of the room, one was still running. That’s not what caught Leon’s attention though. At the very back of the room, there was a giant hole in the wall that lead into a second room. There was another small area that joined the next room to the shower room which had several lockers and gates. 

Leon’s flashlight cut over the hunched figure of a person in the other room. It wasn’t moving.

Leon raised his gun and fired right into its head. It fell over with a wet plop and didn’t get back up. He breathed a shaky sigh of relief and found the door at the end of the room which continued into a hall. One way was blocked—the same blockage that stopped Leon from going farther on the other side where the men’s bathroom door was, and one that continued. At the end of the hall was a light—a dropped flashlight, to be precise. Elliot had dropped one while fighting off a zombie when Leon watched from the security feed in the east wing, but this was the west wing. Why was there a flashlight here?

Leon stepped forward to investigate but put his weight onto a creaky floor board.

A spine tingling _screech_ sounded right in front of Leon. He froze. There was something moving in the darkness beyond the flashlight. “What in God’s name…?” He whispered to himself.

Very carefully, Leon lifted his foot from the creaky board. He scooted closer, very slowly and his eyes widened more and more as the thing came into view. It crawled suspended on the ceiling. A body dropped from its mouth down to the floor as it chirruped and wailed down the hall where Leon had moved the floor boards. It continued to crawl along the ceiling, passing Leon and dropping down right behind him onto the floorboard. It yowled angrily at the floor and scrabbled at it. Leon tried not to sob as he heard the thing’s large, elongated claws rip apart the floor. Leon moved at a snail’s pace, his hands shaking harshly. He hardly dared to breathe. The thing continued chirping behind him, sniffing at the ground and eating pieces of plywood. 

Tears prickled at the corner of Leon’s eyes. In front of him was a door. Safety!

Leon slowly wrapped his hand around the knob, and pushed the door in. Thank god it wasn’t locked. The door hardly made a noise as Leon slid his way in and closed the door behind him. He let go of the handle, and stepped back into the room. Desperately, he clutched at his stomach and nearly doubled over.

What the fuck was that thing!? A licker!? Leon was never so happy to have stumbled upon a note in a derelict hallway filled with zombies in his life! If he hadn’t read David’s note he might have tried to run, and with how accurate that thing was in determining Leon’s last location he didn’t want to think about what that might have meant for him.

Leon squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed dryly—but quietly into the room. The rushing in his ears started to abate when he decided to fully stand and take stock of his surroundings. The room was light—truly his haven for the time being. It was another office. No horrible blood or grime. It probably couldn’t open doors, which kept most of the rooms safe from harm. Right next to him was a red herb. He took the leaves off and stuffed them in his mouth. They tasted like leaves.

Leon gathered himself and looked around the office again. There was a side room immediately to his left and he went in. On the desk was a battery. It wasn’t the same type he used for his flashlight but maybe he would need it later. He put it into his pocket. Next to the battery was a file labeled “Office Supply Relocation Notice”. Leon picked it up, his hands still shook, and flipped it open.

_Sept. 22, 1998_

_Heat-resistant 3-number combination safe – Moved from S.T.A.R.S. Office (2F) to West Office (1F)._

_The combo is left 9, right 15, left 7._

_Please change the combo ASAP upon receipt._

_R.P.D. Facility Maintenance Dept._

Leon put the note down. Heat resistant? As in, the safe was heat resistance, or that the thing inside was heat resistant? Leon hummed then froze, listening for the thing outside. Its chirps seemed farther away, but there was no telling just how good its hearing really was. He tip-toed over to the desks at the back of the office and pocketed more shotgun shells—not that he planned on using them any time soon—and noticed a computer flashing in the corner. 

The monitor was brightly lit. On the hud was a window for the central control service, it was focused on the status of an armory door, which was locked. Leon accidentally clicked the mouse when he put his hand on the desk and the computer beeped at him. It began and canceled a sequence to unlock the armory, then warned that account authentication was required for the service to start up again. Next to the monitor was a locked door, slated so one could see inside. Leon had no doubt that was the armory, and he needed all the help he could get at this point. Leon checked around the other desks for the auth code, instead he found a flash grenade, a bottle of healing spray, some gunpowder, and stale black coffee.

He really didn’t want to, but he had to go back out into the hall. There was an entire other area he hadn’t explored yet, and it would just be his luck that the auth code would be in the licker’s territory.

Leon clenched his fists hard and toed his way back to the front of the room. The licker skittered around, back on the ceiling from the sounds of it. He tried to psych himself up, shaking out his hands nervously, and slowly opened the door again. Thankfully, it didn’t creak as it opened, and Leon stepped out into the hall, leaving the door very slightly ajar so he could go back in without touching the handle and risk letting it slip from his grasp and make a loud metallic clang.

Back in the hall, Leon saw something he hadn’t noticed before. The corpses. Some of them seemed partially rotted away. They had been zombies at some point, not just human. It seemed the licker would go after _anything_ it heard. Good to know.

Leon walked carefully to wards the other end of the hall. He _heard_ the licker but couldn’t see it. He just began to round a corner when a loud chitter sounded off right next to his ear.

Leon didn’t jump, but it was a near thing. A licker stuck its head out from behind a wall and _cackled_ ominously. Its claws dug into the wall, then the floor as it slithered down. It moved in a reptilian way, moving one leg and arm, then the other. For the first time, Leon’s flashlight showed the thing in all it’s disgusting glory. A brain stuck out of the top of its “head”. Its maw was open, no skin in sight, just muscle, sinew and bone. Like someone tried to make a human but put all the parts inside out and gave it a hunger for flesh. Its mouth dribbled red onto the floor. It got almost a foot away before Leon remembered to _fucking move_. 

Leon stepped back, even more cautiously than before, but it’s steps were larger than his. His eyes started to blur as he continued to back up and the licker continued forward. Just as he got to the door, it rushed up and he slid inside. His heart hammered in his chest as the licker went to the other side of the hall, distracted by something else Leon hadn’t heard, thus passing him up. His breath was cold as it left his lungs. That was _fucking_ crazy. The licker continued down the hall in the opposite direction, stopping at the doorway Leon came through to get to the hall.

Bracing himself again, Leon peaked out of the room, then chanced wandering out. It called from the ceiling. Leon didn’t answer as he finally rounded the corner leading to the next hall. Two doors, one in front and one to his side. 

Leon tried the side door slowly. The licker chittered, slightly closer than before. It was locked. Leon continued cautiously to the door in front of him and begged to the high heavens for it to be unlocked—there was a latch from his side—yes!

The lock clicked despite how slow Leon turned it, and he opened the door and slid inside before the licker could round the corner. 

Leon opened his eyes to a harsh glare of light, then gasped lowly when he realized what room he was in.

Leon was in the lounge room next to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's three a.m., sorry for mistakes, im going the hell to sleep [thumbs up emote] enjoy  
> also holy Shit this fic is at 16k words im speechless XO i had no idea it was going to take so long to meet mr x. this is what thirst had driven me to do. print this fic and lay it with me in my grave as i stay up for the second night in a row just to get to mr x. [falls tragically to the floor while holding good as fuck ship art of leon and mr x to my prone body]


	4. The Final Medallion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon finally opens the statue.

Leon ran to the door past the horse statue, into the library and back into the main hall. Exhaustion hit him like a freight engine as soon as the bright lights washed over him. He made it! He hadn’t died! Leon could fucking _cry_ with how relieved he was! Is that why so many people fled the west wing? Were the lickers released there and trapped there, forcing everyone to clear out to the east wing where inevitably someone died and started a gory outbreak? Leon didn’t even care, he was _alive_ dammit!

Leon ran down the stairs two at a time, his breaths came in short, wet gasps. He collapsed at the bottom of the landing. He dry heaved and rolled over, his back to the cold, refreshing floor. He was _alive_. Leon put his arms over his face and listened to himself breathe. After a moment he scrubbed his forearms over his eyes, then dragged them over his face. He stared up at the ceiling and gulped down the smell of that wonderful, stale, dusty office atmosphere, and brought a snack bar out of his pocket. He smashed the thing to hell and back by laying on it, but he cried as he shoved the first crumbling bit into his mouth. Food would _always_ taste great after a near death experience. 

Marvin groaned from the settee. Leon looked up at him from the floor, but the noise was soft, Marvin was still asleep, just plagued by dreams of things that Leon had just been through. Only worse. Leon kept forgetting that Marvin and the other officers had been here for a week before he ever shower up. They went through what Leon did and _more_ , and now Marvin was the only one alive to tell their story.

Leon chewed at the food bar still in his mouth. He blinked up at the lieutenant. Leon swallowed, then shoved the rest of the food bar into his mouth as he got up. There was a typewriter on the front desk when he came in. He went to it and stared down at it. It was an old piece of tech but Leon knew how to use it, and besides, it was easy to lose something on a computer. One button and the whole thing is gone. But paper? Paper left trails.

Leon swallowed the rest of his food bar as he began to type, first about the gas station, then meeting Claire and coming to the R.P.D. At times he felt like an idiot—raving about zombies and monsters and all the ridiculous little puzzles he had to solve just to get so far, but it felt right. He was getting it all off of his chest without needing to force Lieutenant Marvin to relive the experience anew. Leon liked working it out of his system this way. It was healthy to get things out. Probably. By the end, he had several leafs of paper detailing what he’d gone through at the station. He touched the paper to the desk and lined up their edges, then left them there next to the typewriter. It would be the first thing someone saw if they got into the station.

… Got into the station...

Leon ran a hand over his face again. He needed to find Claire. She was trying to get in and find her brother—Leon last saw her on the east side, but there was no telling where she was now. Maybe she’d even gone to the west side, and over there she wouldn’t have any stray notes telling her about the monsters that roamed in that particular area. His guts clenched at the thought. He needed to get to her. He needed to find that last medallion.

Leon wasn’t going to get anything done while standing around. He had another place to check for the auth code. Back in the west wing—lower floor thank god—there had been another door with a heavy lock. He needed to get to it and find out what was hidden inside.

Leon cut his way down to the teller’s office leading to the first floor of the west wing. He ran through the first hall onto the next, then the next before coming to the room whose window lead to the next hall leading to the landing. At the corner before the window was the door. Leon slid the cutting tool from the sash on his back and cut the chain, letting it clatter to the floor. He pushed the door open and entered.

Leon saw some gadget on the desk in front of him. He picked it up. It looked like… A detonator. His eyes narrowed as he thought of the “pen” room. As much as he’d like to protest, the man had obviously been blocking up something. If Leon could use this to set off the C4 charge and reach the rest of the area inside the pen, he was sure to find something. Leon turned it around in its hands. It was missing something. Maybe a charge? Leon’s other hand went into his battery pocket and picked up the larger battery from the tech office. He slotted it into place and it lit up with a red glow.

Leon took the battery out and stashed the detonator with his batteries—he didn’t want to accidentally blow himself up—not that he could since there were no explosives hooked up to the device yet. Better safe than sorry.

Leon walked to the other end of the room. On a board were several locker combinations he ignored, and a green herb. He took the leaves and stuffed them into his second herb pocket. There were two doors, one had a flash grenade and one with several boards piled up near it. Leon took both and tried the right-hand door. Locked. He pursed his lips and stepped back to the other door. The lock was on his side and he undid the latch and swung the door open. 

Leon shone his light around. He was in the hallway where he’d taken some snacks. The large zombie from before was laying right where he left it. Leon padded down the hallway and back to the stairs. He made his way to the top landing, steadfastly ignoring the men’s bathroom to get to the top floor where the “pen” room was.

Leon slowed as he entered the hallway leading to the room. No lickers confronted him up here but it was just a matter of time before they managed to get a door open and find their way up and down the west wing landing. He crept into the room and shut the door behind him. He made his way past the gates and storage closets, then padded up to the C4. He took the detonator from his pocket, inserted the battery, and attached it to the C4. Hopefully it worked.

The timer started up. Leon blanched, watching as it ticked down from ten seconds. Fffffffff—

Leon ran back and hid behind one of the gates at the far end of the wall. He ducked and put his arms over his head and the device made several angry beeps followed by explosive heat. As soon as the bomb erupted a screech echoed through the room. Oh no.

Leon froze in place, then realized it was behind him. He made his way to the pen. Several bodies lay motionless on the floor, long dead and rotting. Leon toed his way past them. There were no wooden floor board to creak and blow his cover here but he still had to be careful. One wrong step and the loose papers covering the tile of the pen would make him slip and make a noise of shock, which would lead the licker right to him

At the far corner of the pen was a statue. Leon’s mouth dropped open. How had he missed that!?

He unclasped the button to his pouch as quietly as possible. The licker chittered, coming closer but still outside of the pen. Leon quickly checked the notebook. Statue of a woman. Combination was… Feather. Horse. Branch. He turned the first two but paused on the last. The licker jumped farther away from the pen and Leon took his chance, inputting the last and letting the medallion pop up with a ceramic groan. 

The licker screeched and pounced back, right into the pen.

Its claws reached out and without thinking, Leon reached back for his shotgun and shot it in the face. It yowled angrily, jumping right back up and catching Leon’s arm with its talons.

Leon yelped and shot again. The blast knocked it back and Leon shot it twice more in the head. It fell backwards, its brain blown to bits, and stayed down.

Leon gasped sharply as the adrenaline hit. He dropped the empty gun and patted at his arm. It was shredded to shit. He gagged and pulled at the torn fabric but hissed in pain. It cut deep. Leon fumbled with one of his pouches. He picked up healing spray earlier—it should help. Leon took out the spray with a shaky hand and sprayed it onto the wound. The pain dulled immediately and he sagged. Thank god for modern medicine. Slowly, the cut sealed itself shut. Leon sprayed it again for safe measure and it healed almost completely. Leon tested his arm. As it rolled and twisted, so did the thin red scratches, but they were definitely better than they had been before. Leon capped the spray and put it back into his bag. He hoped he wouldn’t need to use it again, but if he did, he had a good half a can left.

Leon heard several shuffling steps outside the door leading to the pen. A good amount of zombies probably heard all the noise he made. He grunted as he took his first steps to a door. It was blocked by a cabinet that fell during the explosion and he quickly grabbed it. Heaving, Leon set it out of the way and opened the door.

Leon was never so happy to see a library. He closed the door behind him and made his way back into the main hall. He went down the stairs. Marvin was still out cold on the settee. Leon sighed and turned to the statue. He took the medallion out of his pocket and put it into its place.

The statue rumbled. Leon stepped back as a good portion of the statue’s front went underground, forming a stair case down and revealing an ornate metal door leading further into the facility.

Leon rubbed his hand over his face and stepped down. The air got colder as he got closer. Hesitantly, he pushed the door inward. It swung with a low creak. The stairs continued a short ways down. He swallowed dryly, “So it goes underground… Huh….”

Leon stepped back up to the main landing, “That’s it—that’s our way out.” Leon went over to Marvin, “Lieutenant Branagh! Marvin!” His hands hovered over the man’s shoulders, “It’s time to go!” He prodded the lieutenant, “Hey, Marvin?”

Marvin sat up, growling.

Leon stepped back, hand reaching for the knife but Marvin gasped raggedly and blinked up at him. Not a zombie.

Leon’s brow furrowed in worry. “We need to get you to a hospital. Right now.”

Marvin exhaled shakily. His entire body trembled in pain, “No, no… I… Save yourself...”

Leon reached for Marvin as he stood up, “Come on, I’ve got you—“

”Go!”

Leon stumbled back. This wasn’t how it had to end. “Look—we can still make it out of here together, if you just gimme—“

Marvin turned and pulled out a gun.

Leon’s breath froze in his lungs. He held his hands up placatingly as Marvin droned, “It’s too late.” He blinked, looking at something far away. “I tried, Leon… But I couldn’t stop it.” He looked back up at Leon. “We _can’t_ let this thing spread. It’s on you now... Just… Go.”

Marvin’s lip trembled.

Leon’s eyes went wet. “I understand...” He turned to the stairs. “I won’t let you down, Marvin.”

Leon didn’t wait for a response. He wasn’t likely to get one. He stepped back down, then through the door. As he reached the bottom landing the statue closed up behind him. He watched as Marvin disappeared from view behind the slated gate, then sealed completely, leaving Leon alone in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, I uhhhh hope im not doing this wrong cause i know for a fact that we meet mr x up by the helicopter but i didn't see a way to trigger his appearance sooooooo yeah. If i have to then im definitely going to go back and change this chapter since im not sure when or if i'll be able to get back up there but hey! marvin didn't die in front of me so i can probably spin a safe retrieval for him if i dont find his body later! keep your fingers crossed!  
> *edit: OKAY DOING MORE RIGHT NOW. I THINK I JUST SAW MR X AND I DEFINITELY GOT A PART THAT GOES TO SOMETHING THAT WAS IN THE OLD PART OF THE GAME SO WHOOPS IM DUMB I AM GOING BACK LMAO JUST IGNORE ME


	5. The Parking Garage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon finds his way out of the sewers.

Leon stared ahead into the dark. He didn’t know if he’d be able to get out again from here—the statue sealed without prompt and even if Marvin took out the medallions and put them back something told Leon it might not budge a second time.

Leon brought his flashlight up and shone it in front of him. No zombies. Yet. 

He took a couple of cautious steps into the room, and it opened up into a circular area. It resembled an office; old books lined the walls and there was a desk with odd nick-knacks on it. The whole room was covered with a fine layer of dust, but not as bad as the room upstairs in the east wing with the statue. The room had been entered before. Recently. He put his flashlight away to conserve battery.

On one of the end tables was a half empty box of shotgun shells. Leon took them and immediately put them into his shotgun. It was powerful, no doubt, but he still had a lot more handgun bullets than shotgun. He needed to conserve them while he could. 

There were several art pieces in the room. There were two tiny statues. One was a horse—a unicorn, Leon realized—and a lion. Miniature versions of the statues upstairs. There was a detailed replica of a building with a large clock on the front. It looked very familiar—was it the station?—and it was clearly made with excruciating care.

A doorway at the side of the office lead to an elevator shaft. Leon stepped into it and pushed the button to go down. It only moved him a short distance before its doors opened again.

The scene this time was much more industrial. Leon was deposited on some concrete stairs with a thin metal railing that had rusted in some areas. He carefully didn’t touch the rail as he descended several flights. His flashlight clicked on as he left the safety of the elevator. The light cut through the darkness. At the bottom of the first set of stairs was an open door that lead to another dangerous looking room with large steamers and heavy machinery, then a way to go further down. Leon ignored the door for a moment and went to the “ground” floor. 

His keen eye spotted something a little odd on the ground as he checked around. It was a grenade. Not a flash grenade, but rather a true, highly explosive and highly hazardous pin-grenade. Leon grabbed it. It wasn’t damaged. No use leaving it on the floor—he stuffed it into one of the large side pouches on his belt and got up.

At one end of the room was a police box. There was something inside, but Leon didn’t know how to open it. There was a locked cell door at the back, but not much else. Most of the things down here were unusable. Bags of dry cement, hazard cones, some bricks and blocks. It didn’t make a lot of sense.

Leon went back up the stairs to the open door. The pipes steamed as he stepped by and he shielded his face. It wasn’t as powerful as the men’s room pipe had been, but it wouldn’t hurt to stay alert. The machines past the railing led farther down into the facility. Even when Leon shone his flashlight, he couldn't quite see the bottom. As he rounded the corner and saw the next open hallway, there was a noise—grunting? Yelling?

”What the…?” Leon looked up. There was another grated flooring above him, which allowed the light from the next few floors up to shine down at him. He didn’t see anything. Leon ran, his steps echoed loudly over the metal flooring, and went down another long corridor. He resisted the urge to look behind him.

Leon made to a new area, his eyes wandered over the landscape of boxes, crates and building supplies. The room was giant. Larger than the main hall. He continued and rounded a corner to the right. The doorway in front of him was partially blocked by a locker. Leon pushed it out of the way. The cabinet made a loud clang as it hit the wall and something jumped down from the ceiling.

Leon stared, his eyes locked onto the oozing flesh of the thing that landed in front of him, “What the—“

It looked like half a person, pulsating and mutated beyond human form and into something nightmarish. Leon didn’t have time to consider it as its smaller arm came forward, grabbing and pushing at him. Unbalanced, they both fell onto the weak metal flooring.

It groaned at him, its mouth twisted open but it didn’t move to bite him. Instead its other arm rose up, bleeding and beating like a heart. What Leon could only describe as a large yellow eye stared at him from the thing’s shoulder.

”Oh my god—“ Leon shouted as the thing’s arm rose, heavy metal pipe in hand, ready to smack down and crack his skull open.

Before it could, the floor protested and snapped from its weak hinge. With a bone-deep clatter of metal on metal, Leon and the monster were thrown down into a pit a floor down.

Leon scrambled up, his breath short in his chest; the thing yowled as it forced itself up, its every move seemed to cause it great agony. It got up and swung backwards, its large arm barely missing Leon. “Jesus,” he muttered to himself as the thing stood to its full height and faced him.

It looked at him and howled deep in its throat, half snarling as it raised its pipe at him and swung wildly.

”Whoa!” Leon jumped back, “Words won’t work on this thing…!”

He ran farther into the room, the thing’s yelling and hammering right behind him no matter how fast he went.

It became depressingly clear that the entire place was a dead end. A roundabout with no escape in sight. There was a ladder that led back up, but the thing chasing Leon was always just a couple of steps away and swinging with hysterical abandon.

Leon fumbled with his shotgun and aimed it back behind his head and fired twice. The thing howled in pain and stopped for a moment to hack its pipe around in blind fury. Leon, hand shaking, fired again. He hit it in the head once and missed the next, hitting the eye on its shoulder instead. The pain-lanced shout as the eye was hit told Leon what he needed to so.

The thing rushed at him with the ferocity of a cornered rat and Leon yelped, flying backwards. He ran in a tight circle around one of the floating platforms, making sure it never turned around to catch him at the other side. When it paused and grumbled in pain, Leon cocked the gun and shot the eye three times. The monster yowled and charged him again.

Leon darted out of the way just in time and it smacked itself against a railing. It groaned in displeasure. Leon’s spine shivered at the almost human sound. When it turned around Leon shot it twice in the chest. 

When it was backed up fully against the railing, Leon shot the eye on it’s shoulder a final time, and lobbed his only grenade at it. The railing snapped back under the force of the explosion and the monster fell down over the ledge, falling into the darkness.

Leon collapsed after he heard the railing snap. Exhausted, he crawled to the safe part of the railing and looked down. The thing was lost in the abyss. Leon panted and stumbled back up to the platform. His clammy hands grabbed the first rung of the ladder and he climbed up unsteadily.

Leon groaned as he pulled himself up, “Somebody’s watching me...”

Leon shook his entire body like a dog to get all the jitters out. That was certainly an experience! 

He was back at the room the monster came from. There were several lockers and gun cabinets lining the hall, most were empty but there were a couple with shotgun shells, which Leon quickly took and filled with the remained of his first gunpowder cart. On a desk that overlooked the next room was an herb plant. He took its leaves and stuffed them into his mouth to combat the energy he just exerted. The green leaves tasted just like the red leaves. Which was to say they both tasted like leaves. Leon was eating plants. Who would have guessed.

A door to one side was blocked by heavy steam, so Leon went back a pace. The next doorway lead to some stairs going up. Inside the next platform were a bunch of consoles. He didn’t know what any of them went to, but there was a large lever right in front of the glass window that surveyed the equipment room from before. He looked out the window and saw that a large bridge structure was suspended from the ceiling. To his right, outside of the next doorway was a large structure missing its bridge.

Leon pulled the lever. The bridge moved slowly to the right. Easy enough.

Leon walked out of the doorway to the right and over the bridge, then to the right again. The doorway lead to a utility room. The room continued in the back and there didn’t seem to be anything to look at so Leon moved on. At the furthest end of the room was a ladder. He climbed it to the top and his heart beat faster. It was a manhole cover. 

Leon pushed one edge up and peaked out. It was a garage area. Behind a slated gate were two cruisers. Empty. It was a good sign though—it meant Leon was getting somewhere.

Leon climbed fully out of the hole and onto the parking garage. There were several expensive looking cars, some in odd positions, as if they’d been abandoned in the middle of driving. Leon walked over to the gate, turning his flashlight back on, and checked to see if there was really no one in the cruisers. Leon squinted into the dark glass but saw nothing. He stifled a sigh and looked at the power box near the gate. He scowled down at it, “Damn… Need a key card.”

Behind him, something growled in the darkness.

Leon’s head turned slowly.

A form moving on all fours padded into view. A dog. Its snout was half rotted away and its eyes were milky white and dead.

Leon gulped, “You’ve got to be kidding me—“

The hound snarled, charging.

Leon yelped and put an arm up to block the worse of the bite but it slammed into him. He wrestled with it on the floor. Drool and mucus dribbled onto Leon's cheek as he desperately held its upper half away from him, “Get off of me!”

The dog snarled and barked, its bleeding maw snapped closer and closer to Leon’s face.

One of Leon’s hand shot down to his holster to grab his gun but the dog’s teeth clamped down just a hair’s breadth away from his nose and his hand shot up again to hold it away. Damn! 

Leon grunted as the dog’s nails dug into his flesh, trying to find a perch so it would lunge the rest of the way to his flesh when—

_Bang!_

The dog’s neck exploded in red.

It fell sideways and Leon scrambled up.

”Hey!”

Leon turned, his breaths coming in short gasps, “Who is that..?”

A woman’s figure stood in the darkness while Leon fumbled with his flashlight. “Stay sharp!” she called.

A growl sounded nearby and Leon looked back to the dog. He quickly shot it in the head, putting it down for good.

The click of heels brought him back to the present and he aimed his gun back towards the woman, but her own gun was pointed towards him. “Lower it,” she commanded, finally coming into the light. She was in a long trench coat and was wearing shades. Why in the hell was she wearing shades in a dark parking garage? “FBI.” She pulled out a badge. Well that explained it.

Leon shook himself and lowered his gun. “Sorry… Thank you—“

She shot another dog off in the distance.

”—For your help...”

She lowered her gun and addressed him, “Surprised you made it this far.”

Leon stepped behind her as she walked away. “FBI, huh? What’s going on here?”

She kept walking. “Sorry. That information’s classified.”

Leon held in a sigh. Secretive FBI agent. How unique. ”Where are you going?”

The woman turned, exasperated, “Do your self a favor: stop asking questions and get the hell out of here.”

She spun on her heel, and continued walking.

”Hey!” Leon sputtered, “I’m not done talking to you!” He ran after her but she already made it to the far side of the garage, entering an electronically powered door. He opened the door after her and it swung shut behind him. The woman was gone and Leon stood staring at cell doors leading back into the facility.

Leon shook his head and checked the first room, more of a teller’s station, and scanned around. He found some handgun ammo on the front desk half buried under a folder with nothing of use in it and a map of the police station’s underground facility. The place wasn’t as secret as he and Marvin thought...

He looked over the map. It was simple compared to the one he found in the library of the main station, but it would have to do. He dropped one of the old maps and folded up the new one, then put it into his pants pocket for safe keeping.

Behind the first barred door was a dead cop. There was a gunshot wound to his head so it wasn’t likely that he’d come back from the dead to eat Leon’s flesh. The hallway continued forward and split to the side. Peering into the hall on the left revealed rows upon rows of cells. This must have been a holding area. Leon continued forward to another barred door but it was locked. He back-tracked to the holding cell area, and was hissed at from a nearby cell. The occupant turned into a zombie—probably starved to death while everyone was busy helping survivors at the main hall. Another zombie jumped at him from behind its own cell, arms flailing wildly and trying to grab him through the bars. Another hallway split off to the left and right. In the right part of the hall was a large switch, supposedly for the power. Leon tried it to no avail. He went down the left hall. More cells. More zombies. Except for one.

The final cell at the end of the hallway held a man who was very much alive. He perked up as he saw Leon enter the light. “Hello?”

”Hey?” Leon greeted. He wasn’t usually in the habit of talking to inmates but it was a strange time for everyone.

The man didn’t seem to mind and his feet bounced on the floor, “I can’t believe it. A real human!” He stood up and came to the cell’s door, “Hello, human!”

Yikes.

Leon cleared his throat, “You been here long?”

”Long enough!" the man hedged, "Are we the last ones alive?”

Leon shook his head, “No. No, there’s a few of us...”

The man half nodded half bobbed his head. “Oh that’s… Good news. I guess.” There were heavy bags under the man’s eyes. How long had be been awake for? “Unless of course Irons sent you…?”

Leon leaned back a bit. “Irons? You mean Chief Irons? Is he still around?”

”Who cares? Hopefully, he’s somebody’s dinner by now.” the man grumbled half to himself

”What do you mean by that?”

”He’s the bastard that locked me in here!” the man started harshly, his grip on the bars was white-knuckled.

Leon rose his hands placatingly from in front of the cell, ”I’m sure he had a good reason—“

The man stared blankly and nodded. “He did. He took a drag from his cigarette and tossed the butt to the floor. He breathed the smoke into Leon’s face, “I was about to blow the whistle on his dirty ass.” He looked around. “I’d have done the same thing too, I guess...”

A creak at the far end of the hall interrupted them. Leon and the man looked over.

The man seemed more panicked now as he grabbed the bars to the cell, “Hey! I’ll make you a deal...” Leon looked back at him. “Unlock this cell and I’ll give you this,” The man held up a badge on a lanyard around his neck. “There’s no other way outta that parking garage! Believe me!”

The offer was honestly pretty tempting, but Leon was still a cop. “Sorry, I can’t do that. I have to talk to the chief first.”

Another wailing creak at the other end of the hall.

The man looked at Leon pleadingly, “Look, we’re both prisoners in this station—so either we play nice and help each other out—“

Another low creak.

”Shit,” the man hissed, “It’s coming.”

Leon’s head snapped back toward the man. “What? What’s coming?” he demanded.

The man backed away from the door of the cell, “C’mon—c’mon don’t be an asshole, okay!? You need this!” He was hyperventilating now. “Just get me the fuck out of here!”

The man's back hit the wall and a large arm broke through the brick behind the man and wrapped itself around his head and throat. Leon shouted as mortar and dust rained down. The hand clenched and the man's head was forced backwards into the hole that had been punched into the wall

Leon brought up his gun but all he could shoot was the thing’s hand, and it was still firmly clenched over the stranger’s face—if Leon missed he might end up shooting the man instead of the monster.

Leon watched in stunned silence as the thing behind the wall dragged the man up and down around the cell, breaking more brick and cement as it tried to fish him into the next room.

The man wailed as it grabbed too hard and broke his skull with a wet crunch through the brick wall. The man’s body fell to the floor. His head was caved in and leaked red with bits of yellow-white shards of bone.

”Oh my god,” Leon’s gun lowered.

Leon jumped as the thing behind the wall walked away. Its footsteps loud, deliberate, and quick.

Another set of steps to Leon’s side made him whip around.

”Who is that!?”

The woman appeared. “It’s just me.” She looked at him over her glasses, eyes fixed on his shaking arms. “So you can put that thing away.”

Leon lowered his gun and stammered as she came to inspect the cell, “I don’t even know what happened—it just… Happened so quick...”

The woman scowled at him. “I told you to get out of here.” She cocked her head at the body in the cell, “You wouldn’t want to end up like Ben, would you?”

”You knew him?”

”He was an informant,” she responded dryly, as if talking about the weather. “Had information of use to my investigation.”

Leon stared at the red heap in the cell. “So what he said was true?” She turned and began to walk. Leon scoffed and tried to grab her shoulder, “Hey, you can’t keep walking away from me!” As soon as his hand caught her arm she pulled away and looked harshly at him from under her shades. Leon shook his head at her. “I don’t even know your name!”

A moment passed. Leon sighed, letting the anger drain from his body. “I’m Leon Kennedy.”

The woman seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before leaning back into his space. “Find a way out, Leon. Before it’s too late. Then… We’ll talk.” With that, she walked away again. As she took her leave, she threw, “Name’s Ada,” over her shoulder. What a lovely and formative conversation.

Leon looked back into the cell at the man—Ben’s parking garage key card was now at the far end of the cell. “I guess the deal is on...” He muttered.

Leon stumbled in exhaustion. He needed to get some sleep. He rubbed his eyes and wandered over to a desk in the corner. It had a crank on it—the base was a square. Leon thought he saw a square base for a gate up at the main facility. He didn’t know if he’d ever get back there but if he did, he might need this. He pocketed the crank and turned to a strange outlet on the wall.

Three wires ran out from the outlet. It looked like Leon would need to direct the current for it to work. It was missing a couple of parts—he would need to find them before he could reroute anything.

Leon stepped back from the outlet and went back to the desk to pick up the folder.

_The power panel is out. Can the person in charge of it please take care of it ASAP!?_

_I assume everyone knows, but since the jail’s power panel is old as hell, we’re gonna need those custom power panel parts no one makes anymore. There should be a few in the generator room._

_Addendum:_

_I got word that there’s only one of those power panel parts in the generator room. The guy that’s here to fix the bell in the clock tower should have another, so someone swipe—I mean, ask him nicely for it, please._

Clock tower? Was that part of the station? Leon never took a good look at the outside of the building—too busy dealing with the inside to care, but if Leon could reach it and get that part, he’d be able to unlock the cells and swipe the key card off of Ben’s body. If Marvin was still in the main hall when Leon got back, they’d be able to leave together—Leon would knock the man out and carry him if he had to—the exit was _right there!_

Leon headed back down the hall into the parking garage. On the opposite side of the garage were two doors, one going down and another next to a vending machine. He ignored it for the time being to check on the door on the ground floor.

Inside was another long corridor. Leon entered the first door to his left. There were glass panels overlooking an area with many uniformed officers laying dead on the floor. On one of the counters was a note.

_Equipment Disposal Notice_

_Item to be Disposed:_

__Key to Patrol Car 7439

_Details:_

_Bent key, no longer usable, but can still open the car’s doors and trunk with its keyless entry buttons._

Next to the note was a small tin box in bright yellow. Leon cracked it open and revealed the bent key. If he used the key to get into one of the cruiser’s trunk, maybe he could get something of use—ammo or another gun. Rations, even.

Leon pocketed the key and went to the main teller’s counter. There was a card partially slipped through the slot. The card had a bright, cheerful cartoon raccoon on the front. The letters were blocky and easy to read.

_Howdy boys and girls! It’s your pal from the Raccoon City Zoo! It’s great to see you!_

_Today, I want to talk to you about something really important to me. You know my popular Mr. Raccoon toys? Well, I heard some bad kids have been using them for target practice, but that makes me really sad..._

_Good little kids wouldn’t be that mean, right? Plus, it’s super, super dangerous, s just don’t do it!_

_Anyways, see you at the zoo!_

_Mr. Raccoon out!_

Disturbing.

Leon headed to the next door but it was locked, so he entered the room with the dead cops instead. Upon closer inspection, he realized this was a firing range. The “teller’s counters” were windows someone could stand at to fire at targets at the back of the room. There were many boxes of ammunition, for shotguns, magnums, and weaker handgun ammo. He stuffed as much as he could into his bullet pouches and reloaded both his shotgun, and the matilda he got from his desk back in the warden’s office.

Leon padded back into the main hallway. In another corner was a locked door which lead to—what looked like—an interrogation room. Or a very bland lounge room. The barred door next to it had been sealed off with numerous couches and cabinets.

Leon headed back towards the parking garage and stopped. He took the cruiser key out of his pocket and put his finger through it, then brought his gun up again. “Might as well...”

Leon went back into the parking garage for a moment. He held down the unlock button on the cruiser key and one at the very end of the lot beeped, its trunk popped open. Leon half ran to it, and lifted the trunk up the rest of the way. A gun stock for the matilda. He put it on quickly and holstered it again.

With that out of the way, Leon went back into the hall that went right instead of left, and rounded a corner. There was a muffled howl somewhere ahead. Leon slowed to listen. More zombie dogs? A blue herb was partially knocked over on the ground next a door with a bold streak of blood leading in. He picked the leaves that hadn’t touched the floor and put them into his second herb pouch.

He opened the door cautiously, gun and flashlight up. It wasn’t likely that lickers were down here and he just got a shit load of ammo from the target practice room, it wouldn't hurt to be a bit more cautious down here. Inside the room were heavy dog kennels. One small plastic one and five large metal ones. A bark sounded from inside one of the metal kennels, then another, and another. Leon walked by the kennels quickly. The dogs barked after him, their bloody spittle splattered on the floor as they forced their maws into the biting metal of the cage doors. Behind the cages was a small walkway that lead to a metal door at the far end. There were bags of unopened dog food lining the cabinets. 

Leon made it out the far door, and then turned to look around. Another hallway. There was a door at the end of the hall and the rest branched out left. Before entering the door, he leaned out around the corner. There was a gate. 

Leon hurried over to it and checked the track. It was manual. He pulled the crank from his pocket and opened the gate, then put it back into his pocket. He went back to the first door in the hall before the gate.

The room was cluttered. A dead body with a fatal head wound sat hunched in the corner. Its limbs had been chewed on and partially eaten long after it rotted. On a table near the door was a file.

_Autopsy Record No. 53477_

_Name of Deceased: Justin Hanson_

_Male, Caucasian, 39 years old_

_Observations:_

_Found dead in jail cell bed by staff. Hands are still clenched tight due to rigor mortis, which should be coming to an end. It’s highly likely that he died just after lights out._

_Deceased was a well known kleptomaniac, incarcerated multiple times. Incredibly, he would steal even while in jail, though that was consistent with his clinical diagnosis._

Leon was in a morgue.

Leon sighed to himself. This was creepy. Sure, zombies were bad, but it was easy to spot a zombie because they were in plain sight—ready to shamble right into a survivor's shiv and crumple to the floor one final time before the rot really set it. The morticians wouldn’t have made a note about the man’s clenched hands unless there was something he stole in them.

Leon, hands cold and trembling, moved to one of the doors that lined the wall. He pulled out the first case. Nothing. Leon pulled out another. A red herb? He didn’t trust like that. Leon walked a bit farther away and tried another, and meat came falling out in chunks. Leon tried two more, but they were stuck in place. Leon pulled one out at the far end of the room. A body. Not the guy he was looking for though. He rounded to the next wall. He pulled one out half way. The body on top was squirming and rotting. Nope. He pushed that one back in quietly. Finally, at the very end of the room was a man, and in his hand was a key—the letters “A2” were engraved neatly on the head of it.

The body lurched up as Leon took the key and growled menacingly. Without thinking, Leon pushed the body off the metal platform to the floor, where it sprawled in a daze while he got out his gun. It turned to snarl at him again and Leon blew its head off with his shotgun. Then, blessed silence.

Leon smacked his cheeks. “Okay, keep going, keep going,” he repeated to himself and walked briskly back to the door and out to the open gate. After going up the landing there was a hall to the left and a door to the right. He went into the door and looked around. Another utility closet. 

There was a green herb on the ground, he left it be. On one of the tables was a thick boxy package. He picked it up. “Electric parts”. Jackpot. Leon opened the tape at the top of the box and took out the blocked electrical part. Sure looked like it would fit into the power control panel near Ben’s cell, now all he had to do was get the second one. Leon stilled as something caught his eye. In the corner of the room was a floor vent. Its grate was missing. Leon decided he didn’t like that. He continued to the back of the room, into a small area with several generators. One generator sat overlooking the final locked door in the parking garage. He fiddled with the generator, turning multiple switches on and off until he got the correct power input. Outside the glass, the door in the parking garage turned from red to green.

Sirens suddenly came on. Leon’s eyes shot up as growls echoed through the room. He readied his gun, and just as he thought, a dog came galloping out from the floor vent. Leon shot it once, stunning it, then again in the head and downed it for good.

Leon ran back the way he came. A zombie dog barked at him from behind the gate housing several large generators but he kept going. Another dog burst out of the vent as Leon ran past it. He shoved open the door and slammed it shut behind him.

He pounded back to the hall, back through the gate and back into the kennel. Before the barks reached him anew he spotted the floor vent and gritted his teeth. A dog flew past his ankles and he gave it a swift kick, opening the kennel door and slamming it shut behind him again.

Leon ran down the hall and just before he reached the garage another dog ran at him from a floor vent. He yelped as it managed to jump up on him and bite his shoulder. Leon threw himself back and clammed the damn thing to the ground with the full weight of his body. The dog’s corpse made a horrible wet crunch and was stunned long enough for Leon to take his knife out and slash at its throat.

With the dog downed, Leon stumbled to the hall opposite of the kennel and up where the landing would have taken him. He pushed his breath past his teeth and clutched his shoulder. Shit. He’d been bitten. 

Leon continued up a full flight of stairs while fishing for the rest of the healing spray still in his pocket. He uncapped it with one shaky hand and lined it up as best he could without being able to see the full injury, then let the can spray out onto his wound. He inhaled deeply. He felt his skin stitched back up, they became thin white scars instead of deep gouges. The initial swelling went down too. The spray sputtered and stopped, and Leon let it roll to the ground as he crested the top of the stairs.

There was a hallway right in front of Leon and a door off to the right. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and went to the left. Even after a quick spray, he was exhausted.

Leon pushed into the room. It was clean and warm. A welcome change from what he'd been through just moments before. In the room were several desks and lockers. On one of the desks was a blue herb. Leon picked it and stuffed them in his mouth. As he munched, he turned a light switch and it miraculously stayed on. In one of the lockers was some gunpowder, in the other was handgun ammo. There was a room off to the side. Leon peaked in cautiously but slumped when he saw it. A bed. A real, actual bed. It was technically a bunk bed, but Leon wasn’t about to get choosy about it. There was also, oddly enough, a sink on the wall next to the foot of the bed. On the sink counter was a fuse. Leon picked it up and stared at it as if it had done him wrong—because not having this fuse probably would have fucked him over somewhere down the line. He grumbled as he stuffed it into his pouch along with the crank. _'Note to self, wring the neck of whoever set up all this elaborate puzzle-solving bullshit.'_

Leon dropped to his knees on the floor and checked under the bed. Nothing. He went back to the lockers, opened all of them, and made sure there was nothing in them. He checked in boxes, checked the walls for floor vents, and even opened up the heavy duty storage safe in the corner of the room. Nothing. It was Perfect.

Leon heaved and pushed, forcing the storage safe against the door leading back out to the hall. He stacked several heavy boxes and rechecked all hiding spots for zombies and all walls and ceiling vents for possible means of doggy-entry, and again found nothing.

Leon backed himself onto the wall next to the bed. His heart and head hammered at the thought of going to sleep, but this was as good as he was probably going to get for a while. He ran his hands over his face and relaxed his shoulders.

Leon took his shotgun and put it on the table next to the bed for easy access. He took two food bars from his pouch and ate them, then discarded the wrappers near the sink, and, for the first time in what felt like 10 hours, unloaded his bladder. Into the sink. He wasn’t just going to piss on the floor like an animal. He had _some_ standards. Leon zipped himself up and ran the water to clean the basin, then put his hands under the water and scrubbed under his fingernails to get all the blood and dog chunks out. When he was done with that, he bent over and took a couple of gulps from the tap, and turned off the water.

Leon stretched and yawned loudly, his back made several satisfying pops as he crawled into bed. He pillowed his arm under his head and let his eyes drift shut. He had a lot of ground to cover when he woke up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, no beta, excuse my shit english, and enjoy as i butcher many a action sequence in favor of making leon do stupid boring human things which i think kinda add to the story... mostly.
> 
> btw ive also changed stuff, especially in the first two chapters, and will probably continue to change them if need be to fit the story im trying to tell. I don't like it when things get too clunky, so when i can i go back and add things to a scene that i missed on my first sweep, and this chapter especially im probably going to go back and change because a motherfucker just got hit with a brand new map, and its huge, and i had dogs chasing me, so sometimes when i go back and watch what i did im like aw shit which hallway did i just run down and i gotta mentally backtrack each time i go back and forth between an area. that, and the graphics really are crazy compared to the original. theres only so much fear i can experience while playing something that looks like a splatter house horror version of spyro: legend of the butterfly lmao, but im pissing myself just about every time i play and i cant even hand the controller off to my bf because he sucks at games too akdjas im in a never ending re2 hell where i both adore the graphics and get so distracted by them that i forget im doing all of it for a reason. one reason. leon/mr x thirst.
> 
> and i actually look a lot like leon so i feel like i get a bigger say in what he can and cant do aiight? i look like... leon's 12 year old asian half brother. yeah. thats a good description. probably. ehhh no time to revise that bc im going to go eat. see ya chumps, enjoy the fic.


	6. The Tyrant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon realizes a bit too late that he's being hunted.

Leon made a soft noise as he stretched out. The bed was warm and his feet stopped aching sometime in the night. Well, he wasn’t sure if it had been night when it went to sleep but it might as well have been.

Leon stretched out his arms languidly. He sat up on the bed and wiped the crust from his eyes; the room was the same as it had been before he went to sleep. The lights were on, there was no barking or scratching at his door, and his shotgun was still on the table next to him. He rolled his shoulders and opened the gun. He came back into alertness as he loaded it up with a couple of bullets from his pouch. Thankfully he didn’t squish anything in his pockets—it would have been a disaster to wake up and immediately have to clean five hundred herb leaves from the bed. Leon cocked the shotgun and stood up. He walked back to the first area and pushed the storage box back out of the way. He stepped on a food bar wrapper as he pushed the box from the door and idly thought about returning to the main station to stock up on food again. He hadn’t seen anything of sustenance down here except for chunks of meat, dog food, and a single vending machine right next to kennel. Not the best prospects.

Leon pushed that line of thought out of his mind as he opened the door and went back out into the small area on the landing. To his left were the stairs he came up before resting, and to his right was an unexplored hallway leading further in.

Leon went down the hall to the right. The amount of windows made him nervous, and on cue a zombie came up to one and started banging on it. There was another undead groan sounding down the hall. “Just great,” he muttered, hurriedly slinging his last couple of boards down from the strap of his shotgun. He manages to hammer two to the window before the zombie from the other hall made it close enough to see the areas of its face where the flesh bloated from bacterial infections. Leon easily took the shotgun from his back without needing to worry about the boards, and shot the zombie in the head. It fell over lifelessly and Leon hurried to stake in the final board. It was a good thing zombies were stupid, because there were three other windows that didn’t have boards on them.

Leon rounded the corner to the next hall. There was a bright sign above his head reading “exit”. He wished. At the end of the hall was a gate. The power box next to it was missing a fuse which he was lucky enough to have in his back pocket.

At the gate was a zombie, eating a corpse on the floor distractedly. Half of one anyway. It was the bottom half of a person, with the top half missing somewhere past the gate. The scene seemed familiar. Leon brought up his shotgun and fired at its head point-blank, then turned to the power box. He stuck the fuse in and the gate opened automatically. As it rose, Leon realized why it was so familiar.

The gate stopped at the top of its track and revealed the top half of a uniformed zombie. Elliot. His face was now blueish and he was oozing dark blood from his—its mouth. It snarled at Leon from its place on the floor.

Leon pursed his lips and shot it in the head.

With that, Leon left the office and headed into what he now recognized as the first floor of the east wing. There were several things he could do at this point. In the main hall he could meet back up with Marvin if the man was still there and not… Leon could also go up to the second floor of the east wing and pick up more food from the vending machine he’d broken into, and then go try the crank he had on the gate that was up there down the right hall from the statue room. He also had a new key that might unlock some parts of the east and west wing that had been locked to him before. There was so much to do.

First stop was definitely Marvin. Leon needed to know if the man was still there. He felt selfish now for sleeping. He didn’t know how long he’d been out for. Maybe if he’d been quicker he could have helped Marvin if something went wrong while he was gone, maybe—

Leon didn’t want to think about it. Besides, he didn’t know if Marvin turned or not, and there was only one way to find out.

Leon wound his way back to the east wing gate entrance. He checked around for Marvin’s form on the second landing but saw nothing. “Marvin!” Leon called. No response. He clutched his shotgun close to him and went up the first landing to the area with the settee. No Marvin. No body. There was one point of hope though. If Marvin had been in danger, he would have left the laptop, but there was none on the settee. The man took it with him—wherever he went. Leon cursed under his breath. Marvin could still be out there, but with his injury and how he was now probably being hindered by carrying that laptop, he was in a lot more danger than Leon cared to calculate. Leon even had Marvin’s knife still. Leon’s hands clenched around the gun. He needed to find Marvin. He needed to find Claire. He needed to get them both the hell out of the station before they ended up becoming something’s meal.

Determined, Leon turned. He wanted to check the locked rooms first. With the new key he might find something useful. He wasn’t sure why someone had gone through all the trouble of hiding so many of these important items and trap everyone inside of the facility, but Leon didn’t appreciate it. From his experience, there were maybe three or four types of locked door. Doors that opened with the W5 key, doors that would open with the new A2 key, another key that Leon hadn’t found yet, and by cutting the heavy chains off of...

Leon scrabbled at his back. The tool cutter—he lost it! He slapped his hands over his face and muffled the angry yell that escaped his mouth. When the hell did he drop the damn thing? He hadn’t been—oh. Leon grimaced as he remembered. He ran quite and bit and very shakily when being chased by those dogs. When the last one jumped up on him and caught him in the shoulder, its claws must have caught on the strap on his back, dislodging the cutting tool. He felt like an idiot. He should have noticed it was missing sooner.

Leon stomped up the stairs leading to the second floor landing. There was nothing he could do about the cutting tool now. If he needed it he would go back and get it, but for the time being, he would explore what he could. Leon walked to the library door as he mused. He would have needed to go back down to that area anyways to check the other hall after the gate that was near the kennel. Joy.

Leon pushed into the library and then to the lounge. From the lounge, he carefully toed to the second door in front of him which had been locked the last time he was here. He slid in the W5 key—since he hadn’t tested it with that key, too busy trying not to die from death by licker—and then the A2 key when it didn’t work. The door unlocked with at the use of the A2 key. Leon slowly swung it open and listened for a licker. Nothing.

Leon entered the room. It looked like it was for laundry. There were several racks of towels on one side, a large sink basin and some washers and driers on the far wall. Nothing on the ceiling. Leon walked to one of the washers. There were no clothes inside, but there was a small, portable safe on top. Leon fiddled with the buttons. It was a good thing that these didn’t have a lock-out mechanism if you got the combination wrong more than trice. Leon fiddled with it a total of thirty two times before it slid open, revealing a… Terminal key? He wracked his brain for an answer but nothing came to mind. It was obviously important—or else why would it be hidden?--so Leon stuffed it into his pocket. On another machine was some gun powder. Leon picked it up and slid it into his pocket—he had several cases of the things so he probably didn’t need to pick anymore up any time soon.

Leon carefully made his way back out of the hall. His flashlight died. 

Leon made a small noise of surprise as he was thrown into darkness, and an interested screech sounded down the hall. Oh fuck.

Leon sprinted the five foot distance to the lounge door, pulled it open and shut it as the licker rounded the corner. Leon jumped as it banged against the door. It scratched wildly but couldn’t break through. Leon sighed to himself and opened up his flashlight. He dropped the dead batteries to the floor and then picked two new ones from his pouch. He tested it and it shone right into his eyes. Wonderful. 

Leon put the flashlight away and went into the library, then back out to the main hall. Next thing on the agenda was the second floor east wing gate. Leon walked with purpose past the lion statue and to the other side of the landing. He entered the office he left all the vending machine goods in, and grabbed a couple more food bars out of the vending machine. Even with Leon and Marvin’s spree, it was still pretty full. 

Leon opened the door at the end of the office and stepped into the gloomy upper floor of the east wing. He brought his flashlight and shotgun up and went to the left. He took the crank out of his pouch and put it into the manual turner of the gate. He cycled it several times until the gate was at a good height. He debated putting the crank back into his pocket—most of his pouches were getting full, and decided to leave it in the turn mechanism. If he needed it, he’d know exactly where it was.

Leon turned to the area the gate revealed upon opening. There was a long hallway in front of him. To the left it continued forward then branched off to the left, and there were stairs leading up and to the right. Leon went to the left hand side of the hall, where a door stood he tried it, but it was locked. He tested his keys on it, but neither worked.

Leon went back to the stairs and decided to go down first. The stairs were short heightwise and long lengthwise, so when Leon reached the bottom landing it was like he hardly moved at all. He went down the second half of the stairs. There was an open doorway to the right that lead to a new hall. On the opposite side of the doorway into the hall was a door that had been barricaded from the outside. A zombie pounded at the window of the door from inside.

Leon turned down the hall. A window at the end showed a zombie. It clawed at the glass and pressed its rotting face up to the glass. There were thankfully some boards right next to the window, and Leon hurried to board it up before the zombie could break in. He hoped Claire wasn’t having trouble wherever she was. 

The hall continued to the left. At the far end of the hall was a door, and the hall again continued left. Leon tried the door but it was locked. He tried his keys again, neither worked. He had a feeling that neither key would work in this area and made a mental note to look for the key that would unlock all the doors in this particular area. He walked down the left hall. At the end was a door going right, but it was also locked. Leon went back the way he came, turning right twice and leaving through the open doorway.

Leon went back up the stairs to the second floor landing, then made his way up the stairs instead. The first thing he saw when he got to the third floor was a cabinet full of dry supplies, boxes, empty jerrycans and flattened cardboard. Turning right led him to a small area that resembled a lounge. In the corner was a dusty, ornate bookcase with ancient looking books filling up all the spaces. There were several small lockers and a low end table with an unclean ashtray on it. To the left were some boards leaning up against the wall and a door next to a couple more lockers. Leon stashed the wooden boards and checked the lockers. He found a flash grenade, several handgun bullets, and a green herb on the right side of the room. A door he dn’t seen was also on the right side, and he decided to check that one out first. 

Leon opened the door to find a large supply room. There were many packaged boxes, still in their protective plastic wrappings. There were a lot of places he could imagine a zombie hiding. Leon brought up his flashlight and shotgun and aimed steadily as he walked through. There was a blue herb on one of the containers. It was dusty. Leon didn’t take it. There was a door at the far end of the storage room. He turned and followed the wall to the left where he thought he saw another door. A zombie snarled at him as he rounded the corner. Leon stepped back, aimed, and shot the zombie’s head off in a spray of red, then it dropped to the floor. 

Next to the zombie, sitting on a box, was a large gear. It looked partially rusted and very old. Leon grabbed it and unhooked the sash from his shotgun for a moment to slide it through two holes in the gear, then reattached the sash to the shotgun. The gear fell to his back against the boards and stayed there. It was too big to fit anywhere else. It probably went to the clock tower, and with Leon’s luck, it would help solve some bullshit puzzle that was up there.

Leon went back to the door at the back of the room. Locked. He went back into the lounge area and to the door on the left side. A cold draft hit him as he walked out. He was on a balcony. The sky was still very dark, so he couldn’t tell if it was night or not, but he did have a good view of the helicopter burning away on the side of the building.

There was a patio set up at the far end of the balcony. There was a green herb on the outdoor table. Leon padded over and took the leaves off, then stuck them in the second herb pocket. Next to the door was a thin opening in the railing where a ladder was.

Leon figured he needed to find Claire still, so he made his way down.

Leon got almost halfway down the ladder when the top rung fell off and it collapsed down a foot. He grabbed onto his own rung with a death grip as the entire ladder eased backwards. Despite his grip, he fell. His back his the pavement with a harsh _thud_ and the air was pulled from his lungs. 

Leon groaned. The rest of the ladder fell a foot away from him. His entire back burned but he forced himself to roll onto his side, then his forearms. With a pained grunt, he got up. “Damn it...”

Leon limped a couple of steps into the courtyard. He was right next to the helicopter now. There was a door to the left that probably lead back into the second floor of the east wing and a couple of stairs going down. As he hobbled closer, a lever nearly smacked him in the face. He tried it. A gush of water startled him into taking a step back. Leon checked over the structure attacked to the lever. There were two big pipes. One went up to the roof and around to the helicopter. The other was broken, hence the torrent of water that just caught his pant leg. If he could reroute the water, he could dump it onto the helicopter. With the fire out, Leon would be able to squeeze through it and out the other side to get to—he assumed—the east wing. It technically wasn’t a good idea to dump water onto what was probably an electrical fire, but there was only so much worse the thing could get from this point. Besides, what else was he going to do? Call the fire department? That would end well.

Leon stepped back and shielded his eyes from the bright bonfire that eminated from the air craft. He tried the door on the left and it swung open easily. In front ot him on an end table was a box of shotgun shells. Leon picked them up and took out his gunpowder while darting his eyes up and down the hall to his right. There were flames licking at the floor close to the corner where the hallway presumably turned. The helicopter was likely in the hall adjacent. Leon loaded up the shells with the gunpowder. He didn’t want to go outside to do it for it might get wet, and wet powder didn’t work. Leon crafted a good 6 bullets, then let the ammo box fall to the floor. He loaded up his shot gun and put the last two bullets into his ammo pouch. He cocked the shotgun and stepped closer to the flames. They burned hotter and hotter as he drew near. Again, he put up his arm to protect his eyes from the worst of the light, but it was as he feared. The entire hallway was blocked off by the helicopter. He’d need to put out the fire before trying to get any closer to it.

Leon stepped back into the first hallway and out the door into the courtyard. He stumbled, back still smarting, to the stairs that lead down. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he aimed his gun at a nearby door where he thought he heard a growl. After a second he realized it wasn’t a growl—it was a putter. Leon S. Kennedy, the man who was more afraid of faulty generators than zombies. It would sound nice on his epitaph.

Leon sighed and made his way closer. The putter grew louder as he stepped closer. There was a green door on an adjoining building. There was a large pipe leading from the upper level down to the ground and back up into the building—the source of the water.

While Leon followed the length of the pipe with his flashlight, two zombies broke down the green door and lunged at him. Leon fired quickly. He blew the head off of the first one and clipped the other, he took a moment to step back and regain his bearings before he adjusted his shotgun and shot the second one.

Leon wiped the rain from his face and looked back at the pipe. On one side was a yellow lever with two options, left or right. On the courtyard above them, he had been sprayed by the broken right pipe, so he turned it to the left. The puttering stopped. 

Leon checked around the room of the building before stepping in. No more zombies. There were several generators and water pumps lining the wall. On a desk were several opened soda bottles and old coffee. Huh. He wandered to the back and found out why. It was a lounge. Why anyone would want to spend their time in a drafty room right next to a couple of extremely loud machines was anyone’s guess, but Leon couldn’t judge, because on the white board at the end was a key. It was held up on the middle of the board with some tape, and a note in dry erase marker read, _“Anyone missing a key?”_

Leon grabbed the key and nearly kissed it. “C8”, the letters read. He tucked it into a separate pocket from the old keys. This one would probably be able to open more of the doors along this part of the wing.

Leon stepped back out of the lounge room, past the generators and ran back up the stairs. He briskly walked to the lever next to the helicopter and pulled it. He jumped back behind the wall next to the lever just in case the fire got worse, but amazingly the fire went out. The water poured for several long seconds, then shut off. The fire didn’t start back up. Leon bounded to the door and pulled it. He entered the hallway and was about to round the corner fully when a metallic screech stopped him in his tracks.

Leon watched in awe as the helicopter was lifted to the side, and partially through the ceiling.

On the other side of the now-cleared hallway was something that looked like a man. Its skin was pallid and purple. It wore heavy leather gloves and boots. It had a trench coat and a fedora on, and looked to be taller than 12 feet.

Its arm came down. It was then that Leon realized it was staring at him. They stood motionless at either ends of the hall. Leon’s spine shivered. His brain supplied him with the image of a large mountain settling before letting loose a wild and dangerous avalanche.

The man—the thing—locked eyes with Leon. Then moved towards him with a strong, steady gait.

”Jesus Christ!” Leon gasped, finally moving. He ran down the hall he came from and out the door. Places around the area flashed in his mind—under the stairs, in the generator room—Leon heard the crunch of metal parts being stepped on and darted behind the door where it opened to the courtyard.

Miraculously, it worked. The thing trudged out a meter or so and rolled its head around to scan for Leon. While it looked Leon darted back in, and was horrified to hear its steps behind him again, Not rapid but not slow. One of its steps was three of Leon’s and he didn’t want to know what it would do with him if it caught him. He ran past the helicopter and down the hall.

Leon weaved left and right until he got to the door to the office that looked over the main hall. He rushed through the door and down the stairs.

Leon almost made it to the bottom of the stairs when he saw the thing duck under the doorway on the second floor after him. Leon thought he had a bit of breathing room, but even as he continued running he saw the thing take the stairs five steps at a time, reaching the bottom five times more quickly than Leon had.

”Oh my fucking god!” Leon cried as he rushed down the next landing. He ran into the east wing, dodging through doors and long corridors. It seemed going through doorways slowed it down, so Leon went through as many as he could, using them as shortcuts to reach other areas. Unlocking all the doors here ended up being a blessing in disguise as Leon managed to ditch the thing still pounding after him. Thank god it wasn’t _running_ after him or Leon would have been caught five rooms ago.

Leon panted shallowly as his final short cut lead him to the room with the gate Elliot died at. Leon rushed through the door leading to the courtyard where he saw Claire and he bounded up to the second story. The footsteps were a low thump, and faded more as Leon shot back into the east wing, now on the second floor, and ran past the statue room into the area the gate had been blocking off before. He shot down several of the halls, ran down the stairs and into the hall with the blocked off zombie. He turned left twice and went to the farthest door.

Leon slid the new key into the lock and begged it to open. It did. Leon threw himself in and closed the door behind him. He didn’t know if that thing knew where he went. There were two other ways to go upstairs, so even if it followed him, it had a sixty percent chance of going a different way than the one he was in currently.

Leon didn’t bother to sit and wait to hear if the thing followed him. He immediately walked to a desk and opened up a folder. It was a confiscation notice.

_Date: August 14, 1998_

_Location: R.P.D. 2F Waiting Room_

_Reason for Confiscation:_

_A suspicious man was found at the location listed above. When confronted by an officer, he tried to escape by acting confused, but was arrested. A note he had on him was confiscated._

_Remarks:_

_It’s not like everyone didn’t know who it is, but it’s Justin Hanson: age 39, city resident, single, and a regular fixture in our jail. He wasn’t a bad guy per se, just a bit of a birdbrain kleptomaniac._

_Can’t believe he tried to pull a fast one in a police station, of all places, though..._

Next to the folder was a plastic bag with a note inside. It had the numbers “6”, “2”, and “11” circled.

Leon set the folder back down on the table and checked the room. On another desk farther in the room was an ornate box. Not like the “book” the statue had, but a real, jeweled box with intricate golden trim on the sides. There was a large jewel missing from the top of the box. Leon picked it up and put it in his pocket. He had a theory about which jewel would fit there, but he didn’t want to be anywhere near the stomping grounds of the thing he lost on the ground floor when he did it.

The entire right wall of the room was a window, and it was broken open. Leon jumped lightly into the next room. On a desk in there were several more bullets—magnum—and on a shelf was a green herb. He took the leaves and threw them in his mouth to make up for all the energy he spent running from one end of the facility to the other. There was a door on the same side of the wall as the previous room’s. Leon tried the handle but it was locked. He slid in the new key. It stayed stubbornly shut.

Leon exhaled noisily. Nothing else was in the room, so Leon jumped back over the window and eased the door open. He peaked out into the hall. No sign of the thing that was chasing him.

Leon left the door slightly ajar and toed back out into the hallway. He hugged the wall and slid slowly. His head peaked around the side of the hallway. If that thing was in front of him he would—

There was a sharp crack and a good portion of the wall right in front of Leon exploded outward. The dust settled quickly, and Leon spotted the flat side of a fist wearing a black leather glove. Ah.

Leon turned back around and pranced lightly to the door. He turned the knob to close it so it wouldn’t click, then crouched right next to the door so he could make a quick getaway when it inevitably busted in to find him. He didn’t know it could fucking punch through walls to get him. The fuck.

Leon’s heart beat erratically. He thought for a hysterical moment that the thing could hear it and his idiot heart would lead the thing right to him. It was a horrible thought, and unfounded, because he heard it stomp down the other hall, and up the stairs.

Leon waited a minute or so after the foot steps faded from earshot. He got up, opened the door, and slipped back into the hallway undetected. For now.

Leon looked through the hole the thing punched through the wall. It opened up into the press room—which was right next to the east gate. Leon bit his lip in consideration. Hands shaking, he turned off his flashlight. Once his eyes adjusted, he’d probably be fine, but if he wandered around the halls with a light on the thing would find him a lot faster. It would either have to come back down or go all the way around the outside of the courtyard or back to the office on the second floor of the main hall to get back to him.

Leon quietly darted into the room and out the white double doors. To his left was the east wing gate entryway. He breathed a sigh of relief and went up to the second landing. He checked the settee again. Still no Marvin. Maybe that thing had appeared and chased him away? Leon didn’t find Marvin’s body anywhere yet, so maybe he found another way out? Leon sure hoped so. The thing followed right on his ankles easily—it would catch a wounded, hobbling man with one hand busy holding a laptop at a snap.

Leon tried not to think about it. He stepped on an unopened bag of chips and sighed anew. He picked it up and opened it as he ran up the west side stairs. He munched on them quickly—he needed to find a steady place to hide to he could eat, sleep, and just take a breather. He was hesitant to put himself in a locker because they could only be opened from the outside. If the thing saw him in one, it could easily just twist the metal into a pretzel and then it was bye-bye Leon.

Leon’s stomach clenched at the thought and he threw the chip bag to the floor. He entered the library. The thing that was chasing him should still be in the east wing, Leon would be able to search for a safe place in peace for a second. If the thing didn’t go up to the east wing office right across the hall anyways.

Leon eased the library door open and peaked inside. Hearing no skittering, undead groaning, or quietly angry stomping, he entered. He killed all the zombies in the room before but it wouldn’t hurt to check and see if any more wandered in.

While Leon took another look around the library, he noticed something he missed before. At the farthest corner of the room on the second floor was a door. Leon didn’t think he’d been up there before. The landing that was supposed to connect the corner platform to the others had been knocked down in two parts. Under one of those ways were several bookcases on wheels.

Leon hurried over to them and looked up. He took the rightmost bookcase rail in both hands and dragged it to the left to cover up the leftmost part of the hole. The first bookcase to the left had a lift under it. He quickly undid the lift, letting the bookcase’s wheels fall back into the track, and then pulled that one to the right. Finally, he took hold of the leftmost bookcase and dragged it to cover the leftmost part of the hole. A door behind him opened.

Leon whipped around. His tongue went dry in his mouth as he watched the thing duck under the doorway and face his way. It started walking.

Leon jumped up and ran to the ladder next to the now-sealed hole. His hands flew over the rungs as he climbed up. At the top he looked down. The thing stood right at the bottom and seemed to wait for him to finish, because it then began to climb up. Thankfully it was _slow_.

Leon shot over the hole, stepping on the tops of the bookcases to get across, and reached the door. It was unlocked. He darted through the door and closed it on his way, and caught sight of the thing following him. It wasn’t even looking at him. It stared ahead and just turned when it needed to in order to get to him. It was like it could sense his presence in a room and reroute itself to get to him.

Leon let the door shut all the way, then ran. He was in a completely new part of the building—it looked like he was at the top siding of the main hall. It glowed beneath him, but there were no lights up here. 

Leon looked back up and yelped, running right into a zombie. It latched onto his upper arms. Blood gushed out of its mouth wetly as it opened its maw to take a bite. Leon managed to maneuver the first zombie to knock into the railing, but it still held tight to him. Leon wrestled with it, blind and deaf with panic, he didn’t hear the door open behind him as he swung the zombie around in a tight circle. 

A large hand descended on the zombie’s head. Leon watched in equal parts disgust and relief as the zombie’s head was crushed like an empty soda can, the proverbial liquid of its brain sloshing to the floor.

A nervous laugh bubbled out of Leon’s chest. That could have been _him!_

The thing looked at Leon as it heard the sound. He’d call the look in its eye curious if the rest of its face wasn’t so blank and unreadable. For a moment too long, they stared at each other.

Then, its arm came back up to grab him. Leon stumbled back and fell onto the floor on his ass. The thing paused, and reached for him again.

Leon scuttled backwards like a crab, then found his footing and took off sprinting away from the thing. It took a second to stand up straight before following him at the same brisk pace it had before.

Leon ran along the siding until he reached the door opposite to the one on the other end of the main hall—going from west wing back to east wing. Wonderful. There was a lock on Leon’s side and he promptly undid it. He rushed inside and slammed the door behind him without looking. Incredulously, Leon looked around. He was in the third floor of the east wing—the storage room. There were two doors in here, one lead outside to a balcony that no longer had an escape ladder, and the other went into a lounge room which would allow Leon to make a break for the east wing ground and second floor.

The doorknob turned behind him and Leon sprinted for the door across the room. He reached the other door as the thing stomped after him. He slammed the door open and ran. Yes! It was the lounge room!

Leon ran towards the metal cabinet in front of the stairway going back down. There wasn’t enough time to use it as a blockage so he elected to run down the stairs again.

Leon knew he had a couple yards of distance between him and the thing, but that fact didn’t seem to matter when they got onto the stairs. On the half-landing Leon felt the thing’s fingertips graze his back. He let out a high scream and nearly fell to the bottom of the second part of the landing. It must have been skipping steps as it came down with him.

Leon started to hyperventilate as he pushed up on his hands into a half-crawl half-run. He jogged as he went down the corridor back to the statue room. 

Leon cut as many corners as he could but that last stunt with the stairs brought the thing a lot closer than it had been before. He didn’t know if he’d be able to slip by it again if he took to the stairs—but there were going to be stairs no matter where we went. If he went out the office to the main hall and back to the library he’d have to run up the stairs to get to the second landing—if he went out the office to the main hall and down to the ground floor he would have to run down the stairs—if he ran back out to the courtyard he would have to run down _wet_ stairs to get to the first floor of the east wing.

Leon didn’t have a lot of choices right now—even fewer after he ran past the office door leading to the main hall. There was another room he didn’t enter when he went up to the “third” floor of the main hall—he had to get back to it. If he could run enough circles around the damn thing, maybe he’d make it there without getting caught and having his head crushed. That was a nice idea. 

Leon played around with the thought even as he burst through the door leading out to the courtyard he saw Claire at. Leon ran down the stairs as quickly as he could and jumped the last four—as he made a tight turn to get to the door behind the stair’s landing, he saw the thing in action—it _was_ skipping steps. Its legs were long enough to clear the stairs in three strides. Absolutely unfair.

Leon gasped raggedly as he threw open the door. Elliot’s corpse was still rotting over in the side room but Leon couldn’t worry about that now—he ran to the next area, the thing slowed to open and duck under the door that Leon just ran through, and up the right hallway.

Right next to a dead end was a door to an office space—Leon darted in. There was no way out. He quietly moved a chair and hid under one of the desks. He held his breath as the thing considered which hall to turn. Slowly, it came up to the door of Leon’s room and opened it. It ducked, but didn’t enter. Leon put his arm over his mouth to cover his breathing. He closed his eyes and willed it to go away. When it was done surveying the room, it stood and left back down the hall.

Leon waited until he heard it go into another room.

Thank god!

Leon didn’t come out of his hiding spot just yet but he did gasp and spit onto the floor. His side stabbed with pain he’d been ignoring beforehand. As the adrenaline drained from his body, he slumped into the back of the desk. That was too close. That was too close for _far_ too long.

Allowing himself a moment of weakness, Leon curled up and wound his arms tight over his knees. He didn’t dare sob though. As much as he wished it wasn’t, the thing was still somewhere in the east wing, probably on high alert considering just how close it got to actually catching him

Leon let his heart calm down as he thought. He still needed to get to that room on the third floor of the east wing—the door right before the storage room on the thin landing above the main hall. He also needed to find Claire and Marvin, wherever they were, and then get the hell out of here.

Things were going to become infinitely more difficult as he was forced to dodge that thing. It was relentless. What even was it?

Leon opened up one of his side pouches and brought out a food bar. He unwrapped it as quietly as he could and quickly let the wrapper fall to the ground. He chewed slowly. The thing after him wasn’t like any zombie he’d ever seen. Its flesh was perfectly healthy save for the odd hue and the stern lines that wound around its face. Its get up was pretty strange too. Who would genetically modify something, making it powerful enough to lift an entire helicopter, then put it in a black trench coat with a fedora? None of it made sense.

Leon finished up his food bar and leaned back against the desk. He still didn’t hear anything. Gently, he pushed the chair away a bit more so he could get out from under the desk. He peaked up. No one was in the doorway.

Leon stood fully, bracing himself on the desk. He was hesitant to get his flashlight out—he didn’t want to look like a bright yellow homing beacon so soon after that arduous chase, but there were some windows open in this area that might have let a couple of zombies in.

Leon decided to take his chances and stepped out into the hallway.

With the shock faded, Leon’s ire grew. That damn monster—what did it even want with him? Leon hadn’t done anything wrong except survive and now he had three—four things to watch out for. Zombies. Lickers. Dogs. Then the tyrant. Yeah he said it. Tyrant. That’s what it acted like—chasing Leon around and oppressing his ability to escape by taking an iron-clad hold on his already limited options before shaking them until they bled themselves out one by one.

Actually, that was a good idea. Tyrant. It had a nice ring to it that did seem to ring true to the thing’s nature so far. Leon would call it that from now on—he could only refer to it as “the thing” so many times before John Carpenter appeared and tried to make a movie about it.

Leon chuckled to himself. He was a funny guy when he wasn’t worrying for his life.

Leon skirted along the hallways of the east wing. He kept his ear open, but didn’t stumble into the newly dubbed “Tyrant” as he made it to the main hall.

Safety. For now.

Leon crouched slightly as he made his way around the front desk and to the stairs. He had another door to check up on the third floor of the main hall, and the only way he knew how to get to it was through the library.

Leon steeled himself for another go and continued up the west stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoooooooaooaoaoaoaoaoaaaaaaaa i went through a LOT in this one holy SHIT
> 
> also damn! some loyalty! none a yall told me he'd break through a wall like damn i was petrified! im kiddin. mostly. he did break through the wall and i was scared but i think thats the point aksdasd i love my big purble mountain man
> 
> im probably DEFINITELY going to be going back and adding changes to this chapter if things end up needing to move a little faster/slower between Leon and Mr x, i didn't know when the name drop would happen and its been a good couple of hours of playtime since ive rested so im in the middle of another area that im going to be writing about in the next chapter, so im splitting up the game play, finishing what i have, and then im gonna eat and play again. that all sounds complicated but its not. im just bad at explaining things. im so sorry.
> 
> ehhhhhhh either way! lots of stuff if happening. its technically still horror but im adding a lot of little things to leons character that are making his point of view a lot funnier than it is in game, but never ending running is only so entertaining lmao, so im going to try and make leon and mr x's meet ups important, and avoid them when im just being chased. i wish there was a mod where mr x hauled you over his shoulder and sat you down at a horrible candlelit table with a zombie hogtied in the middle. is that fantasy too specific? oh well my point is that leon will continue to be silly and maybe a little ooc because i think it helps the story. i added a lot of weird punctuation that im probably going to go back and fix later too so theres that
> 
> ive got several chase scenes preplanned rn that slowly made leon and mr x kind fall for each other in a silly, ridiculous way - like laughing at the wrong time or maybe some bod exploration if i can get around to it-not necessarily for the dicking down segment, but just like, mr x becoming fascinated with humans, and then becoming fascinated by leon specifically causes hes not like any other human hes met (or killed) before. with those preplanned things in mind, i have to kind of make up excuses why they're in certain areas (cause im again, basing them off my gameplay), so sometimes ill start a chase in a certain part of the map and i'll have ideas on why that specific area helped their relationship--like the stairs? yeah, expect mr x to aaaalmost grab leon a lot when they go up and down stairs--and before you get worried, no, its not a glitch in my game, he goes down the stairs normally, but for the sake of the fic i gotta spice up chase sequences so they dont get too boring lmao
> 
> thanks for reading, sorry for any spelling mistakes i havent fixed yet!


	7. Windows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon realizes he should have boarded himself in a little better...

Leon almost made it to the library when he heard footsteps. No way. It couldn’t have found him so quickly. However, there was no denying the hauntingly familiar gait of those steps. His stomach clenched painfully and he ducked down right onto the floor in front of the library. His face pressed up against the cool marble tiles and he listened avidly as Tyrant’s footsteps echoed in rhythm with the blood pulsing through his ears.

The footsteps didn’t pause for a moment, and Leon cursed inwardly as he heard it stomp into the first floor of the west wing. Well shit.

Leon waited until the footsteps cleared from the area, and stood quickly. There went his plan. The library would have to wait for another day. If he ended up having difficulty with the door up there, there was no doubt in his mind that Tyrant would be able to catch up to him and grab him. From what Leon remembered, the door was at the top inner corner of the landing at the ceiling of the main hall, with the only other two doors leading back to the library and a storage room that he’d have to dodge through to get into the east wing. Tyrant would be able to corner and catch him if he got stuck up there.

Leon had to bide his time until he could get back into the west wing to finish his reconnaissance. He wasn’t one for sitting on his ass either, though. There was stuff he could probably do in the east or north parts of the station while Tyrant wandered around aimlessly in the west wing.

Leon huffed to himself and hurried back over to the east wing. He mentally took stock of all the keys and items he’d found before. He had several first floor keys, a second floor key, and a third floor key. He tried most of them on what doors he could remember leaving in the east wing and west wing, maybe there was something he missed though?

Leon entered the east wing office as he mused and into the hallway. He hesitated turning into the east gate and patted his pouches. He wasn’t all that keen on going back, if he were perfectly honest. He’d been lucky last time—but he still left at least half a dozen dogs to run around the parking garage. 

Leon opened up his bullet pouch and tried to count the bullets and put them back into their containers for safe keeping—no use having a bunch of loose, rattling bullets clinking around in his pockets while he went—and tried to see if he had enough to try picking off all the dogs so he’d have a safer time going through when he finally had the parking garage keycard.

Leon startled slightly as his fingers came into contact with something that was _not_ a bullet. He pulled it out and narrowed his eyes at it. It was a terminal key. Leon vaguely remembered unlocking a portable safe just to get this key, and he also vaguely remembered where it may go. Downstairs there was a weapons locker, Leon hadn’t been able to open all of them because it was missing its key. Maybe he could finish looting the place before heading back to finish off some dogs.

Leon put the terminal key into his sock—he didn’t want to lose it with the bullets again and he didn’t have any more pouches free for use, so it was the best he could come up with. Still listening for footsteps, Leon walked through the east wing gate and down the corridor until he hit the staircases.

Although the action frightened Leon to death back when, Tyrant knocking a hole from the isolated interrogation corridor to the press room would help save time.

Leon went down the stairs, still keeping an ear out for Tyrant, and went to the hole in the press room wall. He entered, glad there were no zombies, and continued out the other door leading to the rest of the east wing. He looked left and right down the halls, then stepped out. He zipped around a couple of corners until he got to the weapons’ locker room.

Leon entered quickly, not worried about Tyrant just yet, and closed the door behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he basked in the cold light of the room. It almost felt safe coming in here—the entire room was a big roundabout with an island of electronic lockers in the middle that couldn’t be jumped over—well, not by human standards anyways. 

Leon stepped up to the electronic pin terminal and bent down to retrieve the key. He rolled it between his fingers, then jammed it onto the terminal. As he pressed down on it, a pin appeared on the terminal. Leon’s brow furrowed. On a whim, he looked at the other missing terminal key area. There was a small nub there. No way. Leon’s finger shot out and pressed the nub and, again, another pin appeared on the terminal, and he laughed to himself. There was no need to get a key—the sensitivity pads were still on the machine!

Leon rolled his eyes to himself as he checked the rest of the locked lockers. In the locked ones were some gunpowder, more magnum and shotgun bullets, healing spray, and—most notably of all—another pouch belt. Leon’s eyes shone when he saw it, and it was the first pin set he entered. He nearly danced back over to it and opened the locker door. He picked it up, examined it for a short second, then strapped it around his waist. He opened his bullet and shell pouches and transferred pistol ammo and pistol shells to the new pouch, then put the shotgun shells next to the shotgun bullets. Now Leon wouldn’t have to fumble to get the correct bullets when he was in danger. He shifted the pistol pouch until it was at his left hip, and then the shotgun pouch to his right. There.

Leon beamed to himself and input the rest of the codes. He snatched the various gunpowders, bullets, and healing items as he went, then padded out the door.

Leon was distracted for a moment as he straightened his pouch. When he looked up, he was sorely disappointed to realize there was a group of five zombies. Their eyeless faces pitched forward towards him unanimously. Well shit.

Leon stumbled back when one got close enough to snatch at him. He half tripped over his feet while running in the opposite direction, further into the east wing. Leon could have smacked himself—in the brief, terrifying moment he stood face to face with the lumbering group, he noticed shards of glass broken off into the soft decaying flesh of their bodies. All of them had most likely broke into the hall through the windows Leon forgot to board up.

Leon stuttered a curse under his breath as he almost made it to the hall where the east wing would connect to the north wing lounge, but skidded to a stop right at the corner. In front of him was a brightly lit red box—a fire nozzle.

With the hungry growls fast approaching, Leon tore open the hatch and unspooled a portion of the hose. He whipped around right as the zombies descended upon him and yanked down on the flow. He stood wide, but was still knocked back slightly at the force of the water. The zombies chasing him were immediately knocked down—and the rotting flesh of three were so soft that their skin peeled off at the force, those ones didn’t get back up. 

Leon began to lose control of the hose and let it go—where it immediately slithered around like an agitated snake, spewing water furiously against everything in sight—including him. 

Leon sputtered as he got caught in the chest, and grappled for the flow switch in the fire nozzle box. He turned it off with a snap and staggered back around.

Leon darted forward to stab a zombie that had stood up while he was distracted. Heslipped halfway and almost landed on the floor. “Shit!” Leon helicoptered his arms around. The zombie grabbed him and he desperately used it like a crutch to steady himself before he pushed it back. He took out his knife and stabbed it through its head, whereupon the blade broke off into its skull. Crap.

An incoming snarl warned Leon of the final zombie. His gaze darted around—too panicked to remember he had a surplus of weapons on his person, and spotted a fire extinguisher on the wall next to the fire nozzle—you know, just in case spraying the fire with eighty gallons of water wasn’t enough?

Leon threw himself over to it and ripped it from the wall. He whipped around and brought it up over his head to crush the zombie’s skull.

That didn’t happen.

Instead, Leon watched in slow motion as a large, gloved hand reached out from behind the zombie, encased its entire head, and threw it to the side in a gory splatter. That was also an option.

Leon watched the zombie’s headless body slide to the floor with a wet plop. The horrible red streak that the motion created was surprisingly artful. It was symbolic of the downward spiral caused by the outbreak, each splatter denoted the number of people who’d lost their lives in this very facility, chased to death by fear, greed, and a harshly ingrained insanity. Or something like that. He gave the piece a solid three point five stars out of five.

Leon’s eyes were drawn back to Tyrant as its arm fell to its side. It had been staring at Leon staring at the incapacitated zombie. Leon’s arms also fell halfway to his sides, still clutching the fire extinguisher. 

Suddenly, as if possessed, Leon’s hands moved of their own accord, unstopping the handle of the extinguisher, pulling the nozzle from the side, and clutched down on the handle. White foam sprayed out. He watched as Tyrant’s entire upper body was liberally coated with a fire-quenching chemical mixture. The dial at the top of the extinguisher slowly receded to red, and the spray puttered out.

Leon bit his lips. A single black glove came up, and stroked a long path from Tyrant’s face, down to its front, revealing its less-than-impressed face.

Leon burst out laughing. Tyrant watched—maybe surprised—as Leon partially doubled over, clutched the empty fire extinguisher to his chest like a lifeline, and laughed like a maniac. Tears streamed down his face.

Just as Leon felt like he was coming down, the foam Tyrant had collected in its hand fell to the ground on its shoe, and Leon _wheezed_. Tyrant stood completely still as Leon descended into temporary insanity. He threw his head back as he gasped for air and nearly fell down as his boots slipped over the water and foam on the floor. Leon danced with the fire extinguisher, desperate not to fall on the wet ground and get his pants soaked. It was a near thing.

Leon gulped in air as he finally calmed down. He felt lightheaded. He rubbed one hand over his face and giggled, the motion reminding him of Tyrant—

Leon’s eyes darted up. It was still just… Standing there.

There was tension in the sharp outline of Tyrant’s shoulders. It was hesitating.

Leon didn’t intend to find out why.

Still keeping eye contact with Tyrant, Leon brought the fire extinguisher back up over his head, and tossed it at Tyrant. Its large hands shot out to grab the extinguisher.

With Tyrant was distracted, Leon ran into the side room. Instead of going to the north wing, he darted outside to the courtyard, then up the stairs. As he crested the top, Tyrant finally stepped out after him, and Leon darted back inside to the second floor of the east wing. Leon rushed to the east office and out into the main hall. He was almost disconcerted to find that Tyrant’s footfalls were quieter that they had been before. They seemed farther away. Slower. Each step was cautious, and considering.

Leon shook himself and flew into the library for solace. He ran up the stairs at the side of the library and up to the landing that would lead to the rest of the west wing. No footsteps.

It was almost a relief, one Leon didn’t allow himself to indulge in as he continued to half-run down the halls.

Leon’s eyes narrowed as another small group of zombies stood in his path. He considered taking out his knife and chancing it—no telling when Tyrant would go back to normal and start speed walking after him—but three zombies was still a lot. Confidence could get someone killed, and Leon had a job to do. Promises to keep. That, and Leon just remembered the blade came off of it in the skull of a different zombie in the east wing. Whoops.

Leon took his hand away from the handle of the knife and brought up his shotgun. He fired and aimed true at the first and second zombie. The third stumbled forward faster than he expected and grabbed onto him.

”Shit…!” Leon hissed. He fumbled and grabbed a flash grenade, stuffing it into the zombie’s mouth as it lunged forward to bite his face. It stumbled back at the force. Leon brought his gun back up and nailed it several times in the neck and head. One shot hit the flash grenade and it went off, sending a bright, blinding light directly into Leon’s eyes.

Leon grumbled and rubbed his eyes. He looked at the downed zombies. More glass shards.

Leon groaned to himself as he scanned the room. He was in the pen room, and when he exited to the corridor, he was distressed to find more zombies wandering around on the staircases leading down.

Leon carefully picked his way down, bringing out his pistol and taking careful aim at each zombie. If one ever came too close, he just pushed them backwards, sending them crashing into other hungry zombies that noticed the commotion. In one instance, Leon took a zombie by the shoulders and threw it off the side of the landing, then watched it sail to the ground floor and give the tile a nice red kiss with the top of its head. Nice. By the time Leon got down to the ground floor, he picked off ten zombies. Not so nice.

Each zombie had something in common. Glass shards. Each one of these zombies found their way in through a window—and the west side was filled to the brim with windows. Leon only sealed off one window down here, but many more windows that lined the outer halls were left unboarded. The siren wails of the fire alarm the helicopter set off must have summoned more zombies to find their way inside—Leon just hadn’t noticed them because it took them so long to get in. 

Leon rubbed a tired hand down his face and took off the boards from the strap of his shotgun sash. He went over to the first window of the corridor. As he pounded the boards into place, a zombie came up and snarled at him. Leon rolled his eyes. “Try the next window, pal,” he taunted.

The zombie, unable to comprehend what Leon said, continued to bang angrily at the boards covering the window.

Leon moved down to the next window, and boarded it up. He went to the third and boarded that one up too. The hallway continued back towards the main hall, and had three more windows. Leon was fresh out of boards to cover up the windows—he needed to find more.

Leon looked back underneath the staircase he came down from and pulled a couple of sheets off of crates and lids off of those crates. There were no boards inside the crates, but with a couple of swift kicks and good positioning, Leon made his own wooden boards to use.

Leon went back to the second hallway and began boarding up the windows. He was so engrossed in his task that he almost missed the faint stomp of footfalls in the distance. He perked up. The steps continued to get louder. Leon listened as the steps began a quick descent. Tyrant. It was coming down the stairs.

Leon hurriedly packed up his boards and slung them into his sash just as Tyrant stepped onto the ground floor. It turned towards him mechanically and marched over. The hesitance from before was gone, and in its place was something akin to curiosity shining in its eyes. Tyrant swiped for Leon—gently—and he bounded backwards.

Leon ran back down the hall and quickly clamored his way up into the window leading into the hall. He ran back towards the door leading to the hall that connected to the first floor teller’s counter in the west wing. Tyrant came out the side door of the room, wasting some time, but it didn’t seem to matter.

Leon managed to get a bit more distance between himself and Tyrant by running into the east wing and ducking into a room. It stomped past his hiding place but he didn’t bother sighing in relief. 

Leon scanned around the room quickly, and found several more boards behind cabinets and under tables. He collected a good amount and stepped back out into the hall carefully. Tyrant’s steps were very low—it was at least somewhat far away.

Leon lightly jogged down the hall until he came closer to the corridor where he’d sprayed down those zombies. He stepped over their soggy, water clogged corpses and into the side room. The door to the warden’s office was on the floor, busted from when something—or several somethings—had forced it open. Inside the room were several uncovered windows. Determined, Leon padded over to them and quickly nailed in a couple of boards with the back of the handle of his knife. He was on the final window of the room when he heard Tyrant’s footsteps.

Leon spun around but yelped when he felt two large hands come up under his arms and lift him into the air.

”Whoa!” Leon sputtered.

Tyrant merely grunted in reply, and tossed Leon over his shoulder like a petulant sack of flour. Leon climbed over its shoulder while it tried to adjust its hold on him, and tumbled off its back.

Tyrant turned around to pick him up again but Leon evaded the grasping hands and booked it to the other side of the room. He pulled open the door there and ran back down the east wing into the main hall. 

Leon and Tyrant’s merry chases continued around the facility—Leon would pause to find or make more boards and cover the windows, and Tyrant would catch up to him again. Whenever Tyrant caught him it just slung him over its shoulder. If Leon was surrounded by zombies all he had to do was stall for time until Tyrant got close and got rid of them for him while he made his escape. During episodes where Tyrant would _almost_ reach him on the stairs, the feeling of its fingers brushing against the back of his vest was more like a tease. It almost had Leon in its grasp, but just _chose_ not to lunge the rest of the distance. It was biding its time. For now.

Finally, after ducking into rooms and wings and boarding up windows all along the ground floor, Leon again ran back to the west wing, through the first corridor that lead to the adjoining room and slid to the ground on his side right next to the door frame. With Leon completely out of Tyrant’s peripheral perception, it passed him and ducked down into the door that lead farther into the west wing.

Leon didn’t wait. He got up immediately and tip-toed his way back out into the main hall. Once there, he ran back into the east hall. He went to the room that split off to the outside or to the north wing, and came upon more open windows next to the door leading outside. A zombie snarled from behind one of the boarded windows so Leon ignored it. There were only two windows to board, and he covered them quickly. No footsteps yet. Good.

Leon padded outside and up to the second floor of the east wing. He didn’t really need to worry about windows on the second floor, but there was no telling where lickers might have broken in. Leon had a bad feeling that he unleashed a good few of them—or at least summoned them—by blowing that C4.

Leon checked around for broken windows, but didn’t see any other than the giant gaping hole caused by the helicopter. Leon looked up at it and gulped. He'd forgotten how big it was. Whatever Tyrant was, it was able to lift the aerial craft up and _jam_ it back into the ceiling out of its way. Its fists could punch holes into solid stone, mortar and brick. It crushed zombies’ skulls in with little effort and flung them bodily aside just as easily… So why didn’t it do the same thing to him? 

Leon’s stomach clenched as he thought. Tyrant hadn’t actually tried to hurt him—not seriously at least. It had almost been _nice_ at some points—slinging Leon over its shoulder carefully—and there was a definite difference in the way it grabbed for him. When Leon first came upon it, it swung wildly at him—its hands shot out like biting snakes, ready to reach around Leon’s neck and drag him who-knows-where, but it changed. Leon would almost call the last time Tyrant handled him _gentle_. It carefully guided his body over its shoulder when it actually caught him. Leon wasn’t an idiot—if that thing really meant to throw Leon over its shoulder, it could have broken his ribs—those shoulders were solid muscle, and probably stronger than steel. Instead, Tyrant exercised caution. It was sweet. In a weird, frightening, what-the-hell-are-you-going-to-do-with-me sort of way.

Leon swallowed and stepped back away from the crash site. He was probably thinking too hard.

With no windows left to board up, Leon went back outside and down to the first floor. He went back inside and stepped over the zombies on the floor. He shook his head. He was _definitely_ over thinking things.

Leon sighed to himself at the absurdity of it all and rolled his eyes at himself. He was being ridiculous. He needed to keep moving so he wouldn’t get caught.

Leon’s hand reached for a nearby door when it pulled back from his grasp, opening inward. Leon stared, wide-eyed, as a tall figure proceeded to duck down and step into the hallway right in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally getting a move on, I know! i do think ive got a good working theory on what i need to do, i still think im moving on with leon and tyrants relationship a bit fast but im also not a writting god, this is going to be one of the longest fics ive ever written and its for a fandom im technically not even active in right now - every so often i have to stop myself from describing robot parts cause ive been in the transformers fandom for so long aksjdasd im a fuckin mess
> 
> ive also got a bunch of tiny little short snippets waiting for posting! I'm probably going to have them all in one chapter, separated by page breaks, and add them on as a series/sequel! I'll only post them AFTER the entire fic has finished just because i want to get it all out there instead of updating it sporadically with tiny, sometimes less than 300 word shorts, so dont wait too long for it lmao
> 
> ive been wondering if i should try playing the game again now that i know what the hell im suposed to be doing, cause DAMN there were lots of times i could have saved my bullets, or done something better, or gotten ammo from lockers i never opened - im usually a lot more thorough about doing all my searching, but by the time i get to like, the technical "third act" of the game, when you become leon after getting shot, im just completely out of it. the chess puzzles were cute and all, but the map was sooooooooo needlessly complex, you go up one way and down another and through the side to get to a meat place filled with monsters you cant even kill! ive got the entire first part of the police station ingrained in my memory but thinking back on all my times in the sewers..... im not going to have a fun time writting it thats for sure aksdjsa rip me
> 
> also reminder to not ask me for updates, i'll update when i damn well feel like it and not a moment sooner, i WILL delete a pushy comment and ive even ORPHANED fics because i got tired of people asking for the next chapter! so! y know! thats a thing i'll do if i get annoyed enough!
> 
> either way, thanks for reading, i hope yall keep enjoying this series, and the next chapter is coming up really soon, i just want to give it a quick read through before posting! its got more mr x stuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuff! yehaw!!!!


	8. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five times that Leon evaded capture and one time he didn't.

Tyrant stared down at Leon. They blinked at each other stupidly. 

Tyrant’s forehead creased slightly. 

In the lines, Leon read ‘Are you really just going to stand there? Okay, if you’re sure,’ and its hand raised for him. 

Leon made a frustrated noise and darted to the side, then made another unsteady getaway. Tyrant’s steps _hammered_ after him. What happened to slow and steady? Leon dodged into the next hallway, then another. Finally, as he entered the third hall he nearly crashed headlong into a zombie. He yelped as it gnashed in his face, and he threw it to the side. 

Distracted, Tyrant took hold of the zombie’s skull with one large hand and squeezed down. By the time it was done, Leon made it to the far end of the hall. He heard the stomp of its feet follow after him. Leon knew he had to do something else to slow it down—it was really determined this time.

Close to the east wing gate was a large locker—Leon never paid it any mind before but maybe he could use it to block its path. Leon skidded to a halt at the other end of the locker and jammed his fingers into the small space between the back of the locker and the wall. He tugged insistently, but it barely budged. There was something extremely heavy inside. Leon couldn’t have picked a worse locker.

Leon heaved. The locker groaned but hardly moved. “Go, go!” he begged the locker. Tyrant’s footfalls grew louder and Leon could see it stomping toward him, getting closer and closer the longer he took. 

Finally, with a great shout, Leon finally knocked the locker across the hall. Tyrant stopped at the other end. Leon gasped raggedly and let himself rest for a moment, putting his hands on his knees. 

Leon looked up at it, victorious.

Tyrant looked at him. 

Leon gulped. His brow drew down anxiously. 

With one hand, the thing lifted the locker back to its previous position and stared him down. Oh, right. Super strength.

“… Oh come _on!”_ Leon groused. Tyrant’s eyes twinkled at him as if amused and its hand stretched out towards him. Leon yelped and stumbled backwards, turning around quickly and breaking into a dead run as its heavy footfalls sounded behind him once more. This was getting fucking ridiculous!

Leon dashed through the east wing gate and into the main hall. He couldn’t go back to the east wing and Tyrant was unfairly fast when going up and down the stairs—Leon definitely wouldn’t be able to dodge it while heading up to the library or back to the clock in the upper levels, so west wing first floor it was.

Leon cut right across the hall. Tyrant was a lot closer than he was before Leon tried that shit with the locker. Why hadn’t he kept running? He was such an idiot!

Leon threw himself into the door behind the half wall in the west wing entrance and down the hall. He gained a bit of distance from Tyrant as it stooped to get under the small doorway. Its disgruntled growl told Leon that it realized as much.

Leon gasped raggedly as he made it down the hallway. There was a pin starting up in his side that he _really_ didn’t have time for. Thankfully he boarded up all of the windows around this area so no zombies had wandered in since the last time he came here. A zombie fell out of one window that hadn’t been boarded up but that was _after_ Leon ran by it—he considered that a win.

Finally, Leon skirted around the last hall leading to the room with the high window—once through, the tyrant would need to stoop down through the door at the other side of the room while Leon got a head start. Yes!

Leon jumped and slid across the first row of desks, then took a running leap at the window. He managed to get most of his upper body through when something large grabbed his leg.

”Shit!” Leon cried as he was pulled back out. His hands had a death grip on the ledge and glass bit into them as he clenched down. The pain was enough to make him let go, and a shard of glass cut open Leon’s palm.

”Oh fuck!” Leon hissed. Tyrant’s grasp settled from Leon’s leg to his waist and picked him up as easily as a doll. Leon pounded at the its arm, and kicked out wildly. Shit, shit, shit! The blood from his hand smeared over the cuff of its ridiculous trenchcoat and Leon struggled to find a better grip to rip himself from its hold.

A large hand wrapped around the wrist of his damaged hand.

Leon’s gaze darted up, startled, “What the—“

The grip was soft on Leon’s abused flesh. Tyrant seemed transfixed on the faint red flow coming from Leon’s hand. A line of blood trickled over one of its large fingers. It drew Leon’s hand up.

”Hey, what are you doing!?” Leon demanded raggedly, in a panic from the pain. His other hand came up to push at its hand. “Get off of me!”

Tyrant moved slowly. Leon’s hand was brought closer and closer to its face. Leon screwed his eyes shut and ducked his head down. He had no idea what it was doing but he didn’t want to see—

There was a soft pressure on the flat of Leon’s palm.

Leon blinked at the floor. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears. Swallowing, Leon peaked up.

Tyrant’s mouth pressed against the cut on Leon’s hand. Its lips were cool and soothing on the wound. Leon’s finger tips splayed out over the bottom half of its face. Without thinking, Leon’s fingers weaved down the lines of its face. It blew cold air onto the cut. Leon barely had time for his hand to flinch at the sensation before a good portion of the pain in his hand dulled.

Leon gaped. Tyrant let his hand slip from its face, revealing a large smear of red where Leon’s blood had been wiped off on its mouth.

Its tongue flicked out and licked most of the blood off its face. It should have been disturbing considering it was Leon’s blood, but he could hardly think past the feeling of his hand slowly knitting his flesh back together. The fuck…?

Tyrant threw Leon over its shoulder and he let out a shocked grunt. His hands scrabbled over the back of its coat, trying to lift up his upper body. This close to the thing’s face, Leon thought he could smell something very familiar on its breath. Herbs? Did it just breathe a mix of spit and combined herbs into his cut? 

_’Ew,’_ said Leon’s brain, thoroughly grossed out.

”Ew,” said Leon, out loud, so Tyrant could hear him.

Tyrant gave a reassuring pat to his back, as if it would make up for putting probably five hundred different types of bacteria into his now sealed wound.

Leon scoffed. He couldn’t believe this thing!

While having that internal crisis, it already made it out to the hall again, and was stomping to the main hall. Crap.

Leon wriggled. His legs hit something in the front of its coat that crunched disturbingly. He shuddered and tried to test how much room he had to slip off Tyrant’s shoulder. Its hold tightened slightly in response, forcing more of Leon’s stomach against its shoulder and partially knocking the wind out of his lungs. Unfortunately, it seemed to have learned from the last three times its managed to catch him. So no luck there.

Leon kicked at the thing’s chest with his legs, but didn’t seem to phase it at all. He was on the verge of bargaining when his throat closed up. Something skittered on the ceiling. 

Leon stared at the floor and tried not to throw up. He breathed slowly through his mouth and looked up. 

A licker hissed at him from a creaky wooden support beam.

One of Tyrant’s loud footfalls set it off. It jumped down from right above them and swiped wide with its elongated claws. “Jesus!” Leon exclaimed and leaned back as far as he could. The licker’s claws dug into the back of Tyrant’s trenchcoat. It made an extremely displeased noise and reached back for the licker. The licker, hearing the noisy squeak of Tyrant’s glove, shot up and locked its jaws around the approaching hand. Tyrant flung its hand back to its front, the licker dangled from its fist. Tyrant proceeded to shake it off onto the floor.

In Tyrant’s effort not to crush Leon, its hold let up just enough for him to push himself from its back and land on his hands and knees on the floor behind it. While Tyrant grabbed the licker’s skull in its palm and ripped its head—and most of its spine—off of its body and onto the floor, Leon made another break for it. 

He ran back down the length of the hall and didn’t bother with the window. He opened the door at the far side of the room just as Tyrant’s now-irate footsteps started down the hall after him. 

Leon ran through several more corridors, then up several flights of stairs. He managed to get to the second floor just as Tyrant reached the bottom of the first landing. It would have a chance to catch up to him here, but Leon knew he could outrun it at that point onwards. There were many little door frames it would have to duck through in order to get to him, which would waste precious time and give Leon ample amount of space to run, then hide.

Leon wiped his brow with the back of his forearm as he ran into the men’s bathroom and into the side room. He opened the door that led to the licker’s main territory and pulled out his shotgun just as a screech sounded up ahead. Only one licker this time. Leon fired while it was still on the ceiling and it fell to the floor in a heap. He took two more potshots at it as he ran past it and knocked it back long enough for him to make it out to the other part of the hallway and into the door leading to the lounge off of the library. He opened and shut the door. He ran into the library and out to the main hall and knew he was free. 

Leon didn’t pause to celebrate his escape. Eventually Tyrant _would_ catch up to him again, and the more distance he could put between them while he could the better.

Leon hopped to the bottom of the stairs. No Tyrant yet. He was about to turn to the east wing and see if he could pick anything up when he noticed something. Or rather, a _lack_ of something.

Missing from the ground on the second landing were all the chips Leon threw down from before. He ate a bag a while ago, but even the wrapper for that was gone too.

Leon wracked his brain.

Marvin wasn’t there—Leon had no idea if Claire had even made it in—and he was sure as hell that there weren’t any survivors left in the building—so who could have—

The realization hit Leon.

Tyrant. Its coat. When he kicked it, the coat made a loud crunching and warping noise, akin to that of a bag of chips being squeezed down on.

That _monster._

It took his _chips_.

Leon rubbed his eyes roughly and continued to jog to the east wing. He couldn’t believe his life...

As Leon jogged, something jangled in his pocket loudly. He jumped, startled, and paused next to the landing. His eyes darted back to where he just came from, then reached into his pocket. He grabbed something small and cold. When he brought it out of his pouch, it revealed itself to be a shiny red rock. 

Leon blinked. When had he—

Leon jolted. Of course—the scepter. Leon fished the rest of the item out of his pocket. There was a small, broken lock mechanism along the rod of the scepter—when Leon was running, it must have broke loose, letting the gem go. Didn’t that gem go to something?

Leon fished around in that same pocket and pulled out a small chest. He took another nervous look up and then padded back down to the front desk and slid underneath it, hidden from most areas of the main hall. If Tyrant came out here while he was fiddling around with the box, hopefully he’d be able to stay quiet enough for it to pass him by. It was really determined to get to him for some reason, and, once again, Leon didn’t want to know why.

Leon scooted as far back as he could go under the desk and brought the small ornate silver box up to his face. Just as before, the blank indent in the box gleamed up at him invitingly. His eyes shot between the box and the gem and he exhaled, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

With that, Leon slid the gem into place. A click sounded, and the top of the box popped up. Leon opened it cautiously, eyes narrowing, but nothing happened.

Leon lifted up the lid of the box more and blinked down at the contents of the box. He took the badge out and put the box to the side. Leon turned the badge left and right. Why had it been locked away?

Leon turned it completely around and squinted at the back. Was that a switch? 

Leon flicked the mechanism at the back of the badge, and part of a connector cable slid out the top. His eyes widened and he pressed harder on the switch. The connector plug fully emerged, revealing the badge to be a usb. He turned it back around to look at the front of the badge. S.T.A.R.S, it read.

Leon clutched the badge in his hand. Maybe this went to the locked terminal in the S.T.A.R.S. office—it wouldn’t hurt to check.

Leon stuffed the badge back into his pocket and stood up from the front desk. He padded quickly to the west wing first floor entrance. Tyrant would likely go look for him in the direction it saw him leave—usually going back into an area that Tyrant might be in wasn’t Leon’s thing, so Tyrant might check the east or even north wing before checking the west wing again.

Leon crept through several more corridors and up to the stairs in the west wing. He kept a very careful ear out for more lickers, and for Tyrant—if he was on the stairs he would get caught again.

Leon made it up to the second landing easily and into the men’s bathroom. He exited the room with the hole in the wall and took stock of the lickers’ old hallway. He stepped carefully. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally become something’s snack of the day.

Leon toed his way to the S.T.A.R.S. office, thankful he didn’t see any lickers, and shut the door behind him quickly. It was only moderately loud, he was proud to say. From across the room, a paper was dislodged from a desk at Leon’s motion. His eyes tracked it.

Leon picked up the paper. On it was a name. Redfield. What in the—

Leon scanned the paper.

_To my bestest STARS buds,_

_How are you all doing in that drab, old station? Hanging in there against old Irons? Me? I just got back from a date with a hot chick. Bet you can guess what we got up to under her extra-large umbrella._

_Europe is amazing. One month is in no way enough to even scratch the surface. Maybe I’ll extend my vacation to another six months._

_Barry, don’t even think of coming to join me. Wouldn’t want to make all the girls cry, yeah? So you just leave the babes to me._

_Jill, if Claire tries to contact you, please let her know I’m OK._

_Your pal_

_Chris Redfield_

Chris. This was Claire’s brother. He sounded like a fun guy but something felt off about the letter. Leon’s eyes scanned it again, and his brain kept focusing on one word. Umbrella. He tried not to think about it too much, and put the paper down. He hoped Claire made it into the facility and found this paper. 

Leon tapped his fingers against his pouches.

Claire wasn’t an idiot. If she hadn’t found her brother, she might have moved on to search somewhere else—the letter was strange, a little off putting, even, if Claire was up here, she would have took Chris’ letter with her so she could refer back to it. The fact that the letter was still here was telling.

Leon went over to another desk and picked up a loose piece of paper. From the ground, he grabbed a pen. He hunched over the desk.

 _”Claire,”_ Leon wrote, _“I hope you get this. This place is crawling with monsters, and your brother’s not here. Just get out of here as soon as you can. I really hope you’re safe. Leon.”_ He signed his name with a short, hurried scrawl. If she made it in, and if she managed to get into this office, hopefully she would get Leon’s note and get the hell back out.

Leon picked up his note and Chris’ note and went to the terminal next to the armory. He put the letters down on the table and reached for his pocket to get the usb. 

Behind Leon, the door to the office clicked open. He whipped around in time to see Tyrant duck through the tiny door. Oh shit.

Tyrant’s stare bored into Leon. He was trapped. His heart hammered in his ears as it stomped towards him. Leon vaulted over a row of desks, barely avoiding Tyrant’s reach. It rounded the desks quickly and Leon jumped another island of desks, this time slipping and scattering papers everywhere.

Tyrant grabbed for Leon but he evaded again. He made it half way to the door when a large hand grabbed his arm. 

Leon jolted as his arm was held in place. “Hey, stop!” Leon cried as Tyrant crouched down to slap him over its shoulder again. “Argh! I don’t understand, why are you doing this!?” Leon yelled, his legs kicked.

Tyrant grunted, then used one arm to grab his leg, and the other to press down on his back—there was no escaping its hold. Still, Leon tried. His weak human arms pressed against Tyrant’s back and grappled with the back of its thick coat, but he wouldn’t budge. Tyrant didn’t even give Leon a patronizing pat as it walked down the hall and into the lounge off of the library.

Leon beat ineffectively at Tyrant’s back as they entered the library. “Let me go!” he demanded. “Where are you even taking me?”

No response.

Leon continued to make noise and be a general nuisance as he and Tyrant continued onto the main hall landing and to the east side. Maybe a licker would hear all the commotion and come to save Leon again. 

Leon squirmed and wriggled and even pretended to asphyxiate but nothing loosened Tyrant’s grip.

Tyrant and Leon made their way down the east gate and into the north wing lounge area.

Leon crossed his arms over Tyrant’s back. “I don’t understand. You’ve been chasing me this whole time—but for what? If you wanted to kill me you would’ve killed me…” Leon sighed. “There’s something I’m missing...”

Leon wracked his brain for something else to say. Tyrant took both of them down the stairs of the lounge to the north wing parking garage. 

Leon startled as he heard distant barking. His body trembled. He didn’t want to be trapped on Tyrant’s back when an entire group of those zombie dogs attacked—Leon would be dropped, and as soon as he hit the ground he would become dog chow.

Tyrant seemed to sense Leon’s unease, and its hand pet soothingly up and down his back, but never lifted. It still kept Leon trapped, but at least it was doing it nicely, he supposed.

Leon fisted the back of Tyrant’s trenchcoat as they ducked into the cell corridor. Leon looked around—this was where—

Tyrant took Leon to a far cage at the back of the cell block—there were two cells at the end, one was Ben’s, and the other was empty.

Tyrant’s hand held on extra tight to Leon’s leg as the other hand reached out and grabbed the cell door bars. Tyrant bent the bars one at a time. Leon tried to throw himself from its shoulder, but to no avail. Tyrant stepped into the cell and bent the bars back into place behind it. It turned around and set Leon down gently.

Leon jumped back as soon as his feet his the floor and he backed up to the far side of the cell. He eyed Tyrant wearily.

They stood frozen together. Before Leon could move, Tyrant did. Only it didn’t reach for him. Instead, it took hold of both sides of its coat and opened them.

Snacks and chips and a single hissing soda bottle fell out from its coat onto the floor.

Oh.

Leon’s eyes dated back up at Tyrant, then down to the food, and up again. “Are… Those for me?”

A second went by.

Tyrant nodded.

”Oh.”

Leon looked down at them in consideration. “So… Is this a trap?” Tyrant gave a blank look. “I mean—obviously you didn’t poison anything, not your M.O.—but you could be trying to lure me into coming closer so you can… I don’t know… Hug me?” Another blank look, but with an undercurrent of exasperation. Leon shuffled his feet. “Just saying...”

Tyrant crouched all the way down to the floor, his coat still swinging open around him. Leon blinked at the black undershirt distractedly as Tyrant took a bag from off the dirty, grimy, blood covered floor. It looked Leon right in the face as it opened up its mouth and put the chips, bag and all, in its mouth and swallowed without chewing.

Leon wheezed ungainly.

”That’s,” Leon voice hitched with giggles, “That’s amazing. Thank you. I now completely trust that these snacks are _not_ poisoned!”

Tyrant’s beady eyes shone at Leon and he nodded.

Despite the hilarity of Tyrant’s actions, Leon still went slow as he shuffled closer to the snacks. Tyrant sat down on the floor when it was clear Leon was scared to get closer. With Tyrant folded into half his normal height, Leon felt more confident in the situation, and slid his way over to Tyrant from across the snacks.

Leon’s eyes darted up to Tyrant, then back down to the food. His stomach rumbled hungrily and he smiled sheepishly up at it. “So! Do you... Eat food a lot?” Tyrant shook its head. “Oh.” Leon took a chocolate bar off of the ground and opened up the wrapper, “Try some of this. It’s a snack food. All of these are snacks, technically, but chocolate is a staple of fine snacking.” He stretched his arm out towards Tyrant with the chocolate bar in hand. 

Leon froze. He was about to pull away when Tyrant’s hand carefully circled around his wrist and kept it there. Its other hand came up to take the chocolate and stuff the bar into its mouth, wrapper only partially on this time.

Tyrant watched Leon as it chewed, then swallowed.

Leon smiled at Tyrant and leaned back—or tried to. “Tastes good? Chocolate's my favorite. I like it when it’s got a caramel filling—but you won’t find anything like that here.” Leon shrugged. “Hey, can I have my hand back?”

Tyrant studied him for a moment longer, then let Leon’s wrist go.

Leon held his arms close to his chest for a second and chuckled, “Thanks.” His eyes darted over the snacks, “I mean, originally those were _my_ snacks—you stole them, but thanks for bringing them back…?”

Tyrant nodded. Its hand reached for another snack from the pile. It hesitated throwing it into its mouth, and undid the top of the bag.

Leon grinned as Tyrant shoved the opened bag of chips into its mouth. “You’re something else, aren’t you?” He questioned. Tyrant stared at him. Leon leaned forward and took a bag of chips from the pile. “I was expecting you to be a lot scarier than you are. How did you even get in here? The station’s been on lockdown for a week.” Leon threw some chips in his mouth. “Please don’t tell me you got in through a window.”

Tyrant’s eyes sparkled.

Leon hummed loudly, “Don’t make fun of me!” He threw the chip bag right in Tyrant’s face. It plopped back down and spilled its contents onto Tyrant’s lap. Leon snorted. 

Tyrant’s eyes shone harder. It delicately took a chip in two of its fingers, then flicked it at Leon.

”Oh!” exclaimed Leon, falling to the side and evading the chip. “Playing dirty, huh?” he demanded, picking up another chip bag and opening it quickly. “I’ll have you know that I’m the food fighting champion in my household.” Leon’s face scrunched up. “Technically it’s just me and my cat, but my victory still counts, right?”

In response, Tyrant flicked another chip.

”Hey!” Leon fake-pouted. “That’s not fair, I was telling a story! You’re exempt from chip attacks when telling your tragic backstory!”

Another chip was flicked. Tyrant didn’t smile, but the soft look in its eye said enough about what it thought of the situation.

Leon continued to dodge and get hit by chips, occasionally throwing his own back, until he realized he was still hungry. He kept the chips he was going to throw and began to eat them. Tyrant’s large arms swept around the cell, gathering chips from the grimy floor of the cell, and attempted to hand them to Leon. He smiled squeamishly, “No, I’m fine. I already had two bags of chips, I’ll be fine. You should eat them before they get bad.”

Tyrant looked at Leon dubiously, but stuffed the chips in its mouth. Leon smiled as he took the hissing soda bottle from off the floor and cracked it open.

Leon gulped down a few long pulls of orange soda before Tyrant stood up. The ends of its trenchcoat flapped to the side.

Leon put down the soda and got up too. ”Here, let me—“ he took the two sashes in the front and—rather foolishly, he would admit—wrapped his arms around Tyrant as far as they would go. Which was not far. Because Tyrant was completely stacked and three times the size of a normal man. Leon felt his face go red as his cheek smushed up against Tyrant’s abs. 

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Leon said out of the corner of the part of his mouth that wasn’t pressed right up against Tyrant. “Sorry.”

It grunted affirmatively.

Leon backed up and dropped his hold on the sashes. As soon as he was out of immediate arm-smacking distance, Tyrant took both ends and just tied them at the front, letting the long ends trail down. Leon picked up another bag of chips from the floor, crossed his arms and cocked his head. Tyrant waited for his response.

”… I think… It looks better shorter...”

Tyrant stared at him. Then moved to undo the sashes again. Leon’s eyes found themselves fixed on the heavy bulk of Tyrant’s shoulders as it reached around itself—handing off each sash to the new hand. It’s chest strained the fabric of the already-tight undershirt that peaked out from the open trenchcoat. The muscles of its arms bulged handsomely inside the tight leather coat.

 _’Wrow,’_ said Leon’s brain.

”Wrow,” said Leon, out loud.

Tyrant paused and looked down at him. Leon could tell through the pallid hue of its skin that it was blushing.

”Leon!?”

Leon jumped. On his shoulder, his walkman buzzed to life with a familiar voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its six in the morning, i reread this like three times trying to catch all my mistakes, but if i put "hoe" instead of "how" or "halicopter" instead of "helicopter" just know that i tried my best [shrug emote]
> 
> MUCH MORE LEON AND MR X TO COME! this was REALLY the fluff chapter so i hope yall enjoyed an entire chapter just working on leon and tyrant's dynamic! from here on out he's going to be a LOT less afraid and they'll actually be able to work towards being two idiot goofballs in love
> 
> leon is super courageous and awkward so he will probably have more of a playful puppy love thing going on, but tyrant may have more of a guard dog, possessive love kinda thing going on considering his background! i dont want to spoil the speficics on WHY until i get there, but it'll be worth it! probably! 
> 
> thanks for reading!!!


	9. Stayin' Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon hears from several people he didn't know he'd ever hear from again.

Leon fumbled, nearly dropping the bag of chips. Tyrant appeared right next to him and caught the bag as it fell. Leon spared it a grateful look before putting the walkman up to his face

“Claire!? Claire, is that you?”

“Leon, thank god!” Claire exclaimed from the other side of the walkman. “You’re alive!”

Leon rubbed a hand over his face. “It hasn’t been easy.”

“Of course not. Where are you?”

In a cell. Claire didn’t need to know that. “North wing of the station. Where are _you?_ ”

Claire made a frustrated noise. “You’re still in there?”

“Like I said,” Leon shrugged, “It hasn’t been easy.”

Another, voice, equally familiar, chimed in, “Cool your jets, rookie, nobody said you were havin’ a fun time of it.”

“Marvin!?” Leon gasped, leaning into the walkman. “Lieutenant—you’re still alive?”

“Damn right I am. You think a little maiming would stop old Branagh? I’m disappointed you think so little of me, kid.”

Leon couldn’t stop grinning. “No, sir, I just…” He huffed, “No offense, sir, but when I left for the sewers you were minutes away from death—and when I got back I couldn’t find you. How did you survive?”

Claire jumped in, “I found a way into the station through a side door. I was chased into the main hall by a pack of lickers.” 

Marvin grumbled from the side, “Nearly shot her when she woke me up. I was completely out of it—didn’t think I’d make it, myself.”

“I got Lieutenant Branagh and myself out of the station—“

“How?” Leon ‘s brow furrowed. “The only way out was at the other side of the building—“

“We jumped out of a window,” Claire said, as if that explained anything.

Leon’s foot tapped. “Ah. Hm. Yes, that’s… That _would_ be a lot easier...”

“Easier than what?”

Leon paused, trying to explain how he’d been running through the entire facility, like an idiot, looking for keys, buttons, tools, and weapons, then went through the sewers in an underground tunnel to get to the northern most part of the station, where he found out he needed to grab spare parts for a power box leading into a cell with a parking lot key card that were in two opposite parts of the building—one which was inhabited by rabid zombie dogs, and the other at the very top of the station—but in the end had been captured by a monster with a horrible penchant for taking Leon’s chips and making him eat them too. Now he was trapped with it in a cell. Wait, why _was_ he in the cell?

Leon shook himself, ”Uh, you know, it doesn’t matter, I’m just an idiot. Which window did you go through? I can meet you out there!”

To the side, Tyrant grumbled lowly. Leon startled slightly but got distracted as Marvin’s voice swam back in, “We left out an open window on the west side. Then we booked our butts out onto the street—“

Claire jumped in, “But we got into a little trouble. It wouldn’t be safe for you to come out the same way we did.”

“Unless you feel like having a friendly introduction with about a dozen lickers,” Marvin added. 

Leon gulped, “No, I’m good.” He propped one hand on his hip, “That still doesn’t explain how you made it with how bad Marvin’s injury was.

“Oh!” Claire hummed, “I found a bottle of healing spray in the station before I got to the lieutenant. I had to use the whole bottle on him, but it gave us some time to look for herbs.”

Oh. Leon _had_ healing spray on him when he met Marvin. He could have used it to help the man instead of just letting him slowly die.

Now Leon felt like an idiot _and_ a dick.

“I’m an idiot and a dick,” Leon affirmed to himself. A large hand patted him consolingly on the back. He staggered forward several paces at the force.

“Leon? Are you alright?” Claire called, snapping him out of his reverie.

Leon shook his head again, “No. Yes, I mean. I’m hanging in there.” He waved Tyrant away and his eyes darted around the cell. “So, where are you right now?”

Claire blew air out of her mouth. “Well… We’re not sure. We think we’re underground. I found a little girl—Sherry.” Her voice became hurried. “Leon, Chief Irons took her.”

“What?”

“Before I got to lieutenant Marvin, I found a girl. I was trying to get her out of the facility when Chief Irons found us.”

“Well,” Leon hummed, “That’s good isn’t it?”

Marvin grumbled, “Unfortunately not. Claire found some real disturbing things in Chief Iron’s office—according to Claire the girl didn’t want to go, and the Chief was talking some real shit with some corporate Umbrella fella.”

“Wait, Umbrella?” Leon asked.

Claire chimed in, “Yes, Umbrella. He was making deals to kill off everyone in the department. He made an announcement over the radio that the station was a safe place for survivors, then trapped them and had them killed.”

“By who?” Leon’s voice shook.

“Not ‘who’, _’what’_ ,”Marvin began darkly. “First were the lickers—they got access to the west wing somehow. As more people died, more zombies appeared, and more zombies meant stronger hordes. Eventually even a group of five or six zombies was enough to put the heat on the most seasoned officers.”

“Then there was this… This _huge_ monster,” Claire recounted. “Leon, it looked _just_ like a person—but it was so tall—“

“It wore all black to blend in. But that face… That face was unmistakably inhuman. Purple and scarred. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before.”

Leon just noticed the shadow of Tyrant right on his back. He looked up at it. “Yeah, it’s sure something all right.”

“You saw it?” Claire exclaimed. “Leon you need to get out of there _right now_.”

Leon sighed, “I’m doing what I can. Claire, if what you told me is true—that stuff about Chief Irons—then I think we have bigger things to worry about.”

“What do you mean?” Marvin demanded.

Leon half crossed his arms, one hand still on the button of the walkman, “When I went into the sewers, it wound up spitting me back out at the northern part of the station. There was a man in a cell, Ben, he said Chief Irons locked him up for… Stumbling into the truth, I guess.” Leon paced shortly next to the cell door.

“Leon, we don’t understand...”

Leon turned his head and looked back up at Tyrant. “He said he had dirt on Chief Irons that would take him out for good. Whatever deal Chief Irons made with Umbrella is definitely what got everyone killed. In fact, he’s been sabotaging the entire station.”

“What?”

Leon huffed in frustration, “I can’t give you all the details—it all sounds crazy but I’ve been living it myself. A bunch of doors were locked that shouldn’t have been locked, places were broken into, security systems and gates were disabled...” His hands clenched at the thought. “I get the feeling that Chief Irons had this all hashed out from the beginning. He was slowly destroying everyone’s chances weeks before the virus broke out.”

Marvin growled angrily on the other end of the walkman, “That’s why…?” He made a noise of deep frustration. “That son of a… All this fuckin’ time!?”

“Yeah,” Leon grumbled. “I almost made it out of the facility but...” He sighed and looked around the cell. “I’ve been having complications of my own...”

“Do you know when you’ll be able to make it out?” Claire asked.

“Not sure,” Leon confessed. “But don’t worry about me. I’ll find you and lieutenant Branagh once I get out.”

Leon jumped as Tyrant again growled deep in its throat. The lines of its eyes were stressed, maybe even worried. It stepped out of the cell, bent the bars back into place behind it and stalked away down the corridor. 

Leon gaped for a few frozen moments, then ran and threw himself against the bars, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going!? Let me out!”

“Leon who are you talking to?”

Whoops, Claire.

“Er… No one,” Leon said hesitantly. He didn’t know how to explain the situation without sounding like a crazy person.

Leon tried to spy Tyrant from around the cell door, but it had long since left. Even the heavy stomps of its boots were going faint—much faster than he’d heard it go before. He’d been tricked into staying in the cell and now there was no telling when it would be back. He felt… Strangely abandoned.

Leon slumped back up against the bars and kicked moodily at one of the empty bags on the floor. “I just wish I had that cutting tool…!

“Cutting tool?” Claire chirped. “I found one of those.”

Leon looked at his walkman, startled. “You did? Where?”

“In the north part of the station. It’s where I found Sherry. It was sitting on the ground next to some kennels with some… Really weird things in them.”

“Zombie dogs?” Leon queried.

“How’d you guess?”

“Oh, you know,” the phantom sensation of elongated teeth sinking into the soft flesh of Leon’s shoulder made him shudder violently, “Just a hunch.” Claire made a noise of uncertainty. “It’s fine. I took care of them. Most of them. I think that was the exact tool I dropped when I came down here though.” Leon ran a stressed hand through his hair. “Do you still have it with you, or is it in the facility still?” Please say it’s in the station. _Please_ say it’s in the station.

“It’s in the station,” Claire assured.

“Yes!” Leon pumped his fist and got to his feet. “Where is it?”

“I left it in the main hall. We didn’t have time to bring it with us—the lickers were too fast and it was slowing us down too much. Why do you need it?”

Leon groaned and slid down the bars again until he sat fully on the floor. Main hall. He wouldn't be able to get there on his own. “I need it because I’m an idiot, next question.”

“Are you safe?” Marvin.

Leon propped his knees up and leaned his head on them. Security-wise, nothing would be able to come into this cell except for Tyrant. Lickers couldn’t even open normal doors and zombies wouldn’t be able to reach him from the far end of the cell. Unless Tyrant decided to leave him there to starve away, Leon was actually pretty safe. If lickers or zombies did come he could huddle against the far end of the cell and stay quiet and they would leave him alone eventually. It was still technically a toss up, Tyrant wasn't _sure_ to come back, but it was as secure as Leon had been in a while.

Leon sighed into his walkman, “I’m fine for now, but if anything happens to me, just know that it’s completely, one hundred percent my fault.”

“Leon,” Claire started, “Be quiet.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re doing what you can. Just remember, you promised we’d both make it out.”

“Yah, rookie,” Marvin chimed back in. “If you die in that crusty old station I’ll bring you back from the dead just to put you right back into the ground myself!”

Leon smiled into his knees. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You better, you punk.”

Claire took control of the walkman on her end again as Leon chuckled. “We have to go. We’ll try to check in with you, but we’ve been hitting rough patches left and right down here—we might lose service.”

“I understand.”

“We’re onto something big right now. I can feel it. Umbrella’s a lot closer than we thought they were.”

Umbrella.

Leon straightened up and stared into his walkman, “Claire?”

“Yes?” 

Leon adjusted his hold on the walkman, “Before you go, I found a note—in the STARS office. It said it was written by a man named Chris Redfield.”

There was a soft gasp on the other side. “Chris? What did it say?”

“He said something about going on a trip with uh… ‘Babes’. But there was something really off about the wording.”

“’Babes’?” Claire parroted incredulously. “My brother doesn’t talk like that.”

“I figured as much,” Leon huffed. “He said some stuff about a woman and her ‘umbrella’.” He licked his lips. “I think he was going undercover to investigate Umbrella Corp.”

A pause. “That _idiot_.”

Leon winced. “If it makes you feel better, he probably knew what he was going into. He also mentioned you. He told a buddy to let you know he was fine if you asked about him.”

Claire laughed softly into the receiver. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She sighed. “Chris was always one to get the job done. He hates leaving things unfinished. I just wish he would have told me where he was going.” Her voice drops, “I hope he’s safe...”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Leon plucked at the seam of his pants. “We’ll meet up once I get out of here and we can look for him together.”

“Definitely,” Marvin assured Claire, “You’re not going to do this alone.” She gave a shaky sigh and what must have been a resolute nod, because Marvin turned back to the walkman and addressed Leon. “We gotta split. If we can, we’ll be checking up on you every hour to make sure you haven’t got yourself killed. We’ll meet you on the other side, rookie.”

“Yes, sir,” Leon nodded at his walkman. “I’ll find you.”

“You better.”

With that, the line went dead and Leon was left alone again. He scrubbed at his face. It was an exhausting, but necessary talk. He was glad Marvin and Claire were safe, but there was no telling when Chris would come back. If he tried looking for Claire in the station—the most likely place she would have started searching for him, he’d be in danger too. Chris was on a higher level in the department than Leon, but he could still worry for the man. No one person could take down as many zombies as there were still inside the city. Most of the entrances into the station were now sealed off and Chris would have to fight deep into the marrow of the facility just to get a chance to see Claire again if she and Marvin were where Leon thought they were—in the sewers. It wasn’t an ideal situation. That wasn’t even counting the danger that Tyrant posed to an uninformed Chris or where in the hell Ada was.

Leon banged his head back against the cell door as he thought of Ada. He promised her he’d meet up with her in the parking garage with the key card, but there was no way he’d be able to get to the final part to the power panel until he got out of this cell. Claire said she left the cutting tool in the main part of the building—Leon must have passed by it multiple times while running for his life. He felt ridiculous for not noticing it—maybe if he had it on him when he’d been captured he’d be able to slowly cut his way out of the cell. As it stood, he was trapped, and all he could do was wait.

Leon tapped his foot anxiously and wracked his brain for an idea—some way he could fanagle himself between the bars or cause enough of a commotion to summon something strong enough to break down the cell door for him. He paused when he heard an echo to his tapping. As soon as he stopped he realized it hadn’t been an echo at all, but rather another set of steps coming closer. Leon sprang up from the floor and whipped around to see what was coming.

Leon’s eyes widened in surprise. “Ada!”

Ada gave Leon an unimpressed look behind her shades. “I can’t believe I trusted you to get the missing components… You do know that I have a mission to complete?” She crossed her arms. “You’re wasting my time.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Leon quipped sarcastically. “I must mean _something_ if you came here looking for me.”

“You’ve been running around this deathtrap of a facility like a rat for the better part of half a week—as much as I hate to admit it, you have the home field advantage here. I needed you to get that spare part.”

Leon squinted at Ada. “Wait, you’ve just been hiding while I’ve been getting the pieces to the power panel?”

“Hiding sounds so yellow… Call it… Cautious reconnaissance,” Ada suggested unhelpfully.

Leon delivered a quick tap to his own head via the cell door. “Great, I really have been doing all the work.”

“Like I said,” Ada shrugged, “You know your way around.”

”Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” Leon grumbled. “I take a thirty minute snack break and suddenly you’re all over me for not putting in enough effort. This is the thanks I get for all the crap I’ve been through?”

“Quit the attitude. I’m here to help.”

Leon sighed and leaned back from the bars, “Well thanks for the assist then.”

Ada gave the impression of rolling her eyes behind her shades. “What do you need me to do?”

“First,”Leon began, “I need you to stay away from the thing that trapped me in here. I’m not sure why, but its a lot softer on me than everything else in this facility. If it catches you, I can't promise you'll get away safely.”

“I gathered as much.”

“Second, there’s a tool in the station—somewhere in the main hall. I missed it cause I was too busy getting caught and flung into a cell, but if you can grab it and get back here, we can cut off one of the bars from the door”

Ada’s foot tapped on the hard cement, “Won’t that take a long time?”

Leon nodded, “Yeah, but we’re going to have a better chance of cutting one of the bars off than fixing whatever Tyrant did to the cells’ power box.” Leon pointed to a portion of the bars, “It wasn't very careful when bending them back in place, so these two have more of a gap than the rest of the bars. If we can cut just one of these, I’ll be able to get through.”

“If you say so,” Ada said, pointedly looking him up and down.

In response, Leon shrugged out of the riot vest and turned to his side, “See? I’ll fit.”

Ada rolled her eyes. “Or stab yourself trying. Fine. I’ll be back soon. Don’t die while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try not to,” Leon promised.

Ada shook her head again and walked off as quietly as she could in her high heels. Classy.

Leon huffed in frustration and went to sit at the far end of the cell. He sat down against the wall and shivered slightly. It was cold. He wasn’t used to just… Sitting around… Leon had been running himself ragged the entire time he was in the station, it didn’t feel right that he was just waiting for something to happen. He just hoped Ada would hurry back with the tool, and without catching Tyrant’s attention.

Tyrant seemed oddly concerned with keeping Leon in the cell. It didn’t make sense. Supposedly, it was here to kill everyone in the facility, so why not Leon? What did it gain from keeping him alive and relatively safe? Other than his charming wit and personality, or course.

Leon settled tiredly against the wall. Each blink was slower than the last, and the day finally caught up to him as he thought of Tyrant. His head slid back a bit and his body relaxed against the wall.

Leon fell asleep dreaming of cold rooms and gentle monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a REALLY hard time with this one, believe it or not askjdakda i wrote a lot of this dialogue before the last few chapters because i knew i wanted these scenes, but as i read through them, i noticed more and more things that didn't line up with the story as i'd already told it, like leon mentioning the note he would find on ben's corpse or some stuff from the sewers, so i had to revise a lot of my wording! i'm still not completely sold on this chapter, its kind of exposition and letting things settle down after cuddle time with mr x, but its 6 in the morning, ive slept maybe 12 hours in the last three days from negative life stuff and general anxiety, so its good enough lmao
> 
> dont worry about mr x trapping leon! he's kind of clucking around and mother henning leon cause its not used to doing two missions at once - namely killing witnesses and also body guarding someone who doesn't want a body guard ashdsajk writting this chapter defintiely made me think more about what in the hell ada must have done to get into the facility and stay there and do fuck all while leon ran around doing literally everything for her ajsdhasd goddamn
> 
> thanks for reading, sorry for spelling mistakes or weird turns int he story, it'll work out in the end, one way or another! ciao~!
> 
> ***hahahahahahahahahahahah dont tell me to update. i'll update when i damn well please. my life comes first before pleasure work and i can drop this fic at the drop of a fuckin hat . ive done it for less. i have four "active" works right now, and about EIGHT that ive abandoned. i can do that to this fic too. i dont care how its phrased. i dont care if youve got 300 words of ass kissing before you tell me to update. mind ya damn biz. i'll update when i please and not a moment sooner. thanks for the consideration :)


	10. Escaping the Facility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon and Ada make it out of the facility with a guest trailing behind.

Leon snorted groggily barely an hour after he closed his eyes. He groaned and pushed himself up on his elbows as a panicked _clack clack clack_ ing beat in time with his pulsing head. “What in the hell…?” 

Leon sat up just as the noisy tap skidded to a stop in front of his cell. Ada, looking disheveled and sweaty, shoved the cutting tool through the bars of the cell and nearly poked Leon’s eye out.

“Hey!”

“Shut up!” Ada hissed, her shades askew. Her coat was missing and in its place was a revealing red dress. “Use the damn thing and get out of there!”

Leon blinked away the sleep from his eyes and finally queued into the panic in Ada’s voice. His hands clumsily scrambled for the tool and he pressed the heavy blades up against the lowest part of one of the bent bars.

“Hurry up, hurry up!” Ada shout-whispered at Leon, her fearful gaze still flashing to the end of the corridor every other second. Her hands were clenched around the bars of the cell, and her knuckles were bone white.

“I got it!” Leon hissed back, his heart raced now that he was properly awake. Ada was keeping a lookout. No doubt she’d been chased down here by Tyrant and she’d come just a little too close to being caught. The tool finally circled around the whole bar, biting into the metal micron by micron, and finally it popped loose from the bottom of the cell.

Leon made a victorious noise and stood up. He placed the blades of the tool on a portion of the bars just a bit above his head. He worked at it furiously. His arms grew tired and fatigued at the harsh use but he kept going until he snipped through the bar completely.

“Yes!” Leon cried, then kicked the bar out of the way. It landed next to Ada with a clatter and he hurried to shrug himself out of his riot vest. He shucked it off and put it through the bars before himself. He wriggled and strained through the bars. He sucked in his chest as much as he could and finally got his top half through. His foot hit the bars and he cursed lowly before getting it—and the rest of his first leg—through. From there it was easy to rotate back to normal and pull his other leg through.

Ada grabbed his arm as soon as he was fully out of the cell, and she tugged him along. Leon found his own footing and shrugged out of her touch to put on his vest again. His fingers stuttered on the heavy-duty velcro as the telltale sound of heavy footfalls stomped around inside the parking garage.

Ada immediately stopped running and her face went a shade paler. “Oh no...”

Leon waved her off and kept running towards the garage, “There was another way back out at the back corridor—hide there and I’ll lead it away!”

“Leon!”

Ada’s plea fell on an unhearing ear. Leon made his way quickly into the next corridor, and into the next one after that. In front of him, the door leading to the parking garage opened, and Tyrant stooped low to enter. While it was still standing back up, Leon ducked under one of its arms and ran right back into the garage. A frustrated growl punctuated his escape and he laughed breathlessly.

“Try and get me!” Leon taunted loudly, then yelped. A dog appeared and attempted to bite his ankle. “Holy shit!” He dodged out of the way and made his way into the kennel area, where he ran up the stairs and into the lounge. He heard Tyrant open the door at the bottom of the stairs.

Leon ran through the east gate and through the several corridors that lead to the main hall. At the bottom on the west landing was Ada’s jacket. He bit his lip. He didn’t want to leave it there—it would count as extra protection for Ada, which would help both of them in the long run, but if he took it with him, it could slow him down. Tyrant would certainly catch up to him and grab him, making the actual retrieving of the jacket useless. Leon just needed to find the final part of the power panel. Oof. Try saying that five times fast.

Leon ran up the stairs and into the library. He darted over to the ladder at the far side and climbed to the top. He ran across the makeshift bookcase bridge and into the door that lead to the siding overlooking the main hall.

Leon ran to the door on the first side of the siding. He opened the door quickly and shut the it behind him. His gaze darted around the room and landed on a heavy, clockwork-looking mechanism. Seeing it, Leon fumbled with the strap of his shot gun and pulled the gear from the storage room off of it, nearly letting the sash slip from his fingers as he reattached it to his shotgun. He took the gear and held it out in front of him as he got closer. He slid the middle part of the gear onto a rod in the center of the machine. It turned and a set of stairs dropped down from the ceiling. Finally, Leon had access to the clock tower!

Leon didn’t know how much time he had before Tyrant got to him, so he tried to hurry. He saw a folder on a desk in the room he was is and snatched it hastily. He read it while going around another incomplete looking machine and to a door near a wardrobe to the right. It was a repair plan.

_Location: Police station west side clock tower_

_Due to the high cultural value of the bell, I’m calling a specialist in to make the repairs. Will go over the details once they’re on the scene, but in the meantime, I’ll take steps to secure the bell since the yoke is threatening to break._

That’s why the repair man went to the bell with the spare power box part. Leon let the notes drop to the ground and brought up his flashlight. He was in a completely new area. The hallway stretched long, then turned to the right, where it went long again. There were no doors. At the end of the second hall was a dead end, pallets stacked lengthwise against the wall. If Leon were desperate, he could squeeze through them, but he was still tired from all the running he just did. He could go over there later.

Leon turned around and went back out the door into the main part of the clock tower. He made a left and went up the stairs that just dropped down. At the top was a large bell in a cage. Leon made his way over. Inside the cage were a couple of support boards were someone could sit and repair the bell. There was no body, but there were two tool boxes, a half eaten sandwich that was probably bought for a quarter at a seedy gas station, and the power panel part. The last one Leon needed.

There was no way to get into the cage from where Leon was, but after a quick look around he found a small gear sitting on the turn-piece that moved the hands of the clock face. Leon picked it up and stepped back. It was huge. From outside it was just another place to look if you needed the time, but Leon could see the wear and tear up close. There were several areas where rain leaked in too much and caused water damage. On the top part of the face was a string of moss—kept alive by said water damage. It sat unmoving, and might stay that way for the rest of its life. What a sad way to go.

Leon swallowed and turned back. He went down the stairs and to the mechanism next to the cage that looked like it was missing a part. Leon stuck the small gear inside and watched mutely as it turned. The machine started up, but Leon couldn’t see that happened. Leon pursed his lips and looked up. Oh. The clock face. Maybe if Leon started it up, the bell would ring and knock the power panel down—then all he had to do was pick it up and run.

Leon scanned around. His eyes landed on the big gear he used to bring the stairs down. Leon ran over to it and grabbed the gear out. He ran back tot he stairs quickly but realized he shouldn’t have bothered—the stairs didn’t retract. 

Leon took a couple of steadying breaths and marched back up to the time-piece. He looked around, circled it once, twice, then finally found a place where the gear might fit. Leon shoved it into the slot and watched as it started up. Gears all around the room began turning. The minute hand of the clock, finally moving, slapped down over the twelfth mark, signaling the start of a new hour—and signaling the bell to chime.

The bell knocked into the power panel part—then the support beams—then the floor with a rattling crack.

Leon grimaced as he ran back down the stairs. “Ooooh I hope I don’t have to write a report on this...”

Leon ran back down the stairs and to the front of the room. He picked up the power part—or the box for it. He opened it up, revealing the second piece. Finally. With this, he could go back to the jail, unlock the cell, and get the parking key card.

Leon’s hand froze over the door handle, a familiar stomp sounded outside of the door, and Leon barely had time to step back into the wall near the door as it swung open, almost knocking him over. Tyrant stepped into the room. Its focus was on the bell, and not Leon, who hid behind the door, but it was just a matter of time until it turned and saw him. 

Leon let Tyrant get to the farthest point of the cage before he crept out from behind the door and scrambled through the door way.

The foot steps paused, then came after him.

Leon cursed his luck and darted back into the library. He jumped back over to the ladder and slid down it quickly just as Tyrant ducked through the door on the upper landing. He cursed very colorfully as it ignored the ladder and proceeded to jump down to the floor right in front of Leon and make a swipe at him. 

“No! Bad Tyrant!” Leon cried hysterically. He ducked under the next reaching hand and out of the library door into the main hall. His eyes darted around. It would be a swift capture if he went down the stairs, so he ran tot he other end of the landing to the east side. He ran into the east office and into the small corridor that lead to the second floor east gate. He ran through it and almost sobbed in relief—Tyrant had to stoop several times to get through the doorways, costing it precious time.

Leon ran to the stairs leading down to the east wing first floor, and through the press room that Tyrant had broken the wall of. He scampered through it and down into the corridor leading to the north wing lounge.

Leon went past the gate, stepping over Elliot’s body—the top and bottom half of it—and ran forward. He cut to the left, through the lounge and down the stairs. He passed into the kennel area. He ran by the body of the dog that’d bit his shoulder and into the parking garage.

Barking echoed through the area, reinvigorated by the sudden commotion of the last hour. Leon’s head whipped around, and in the short span of time he took to access how fucked he was, he counted almost six dogs now in the lot. Not good.

Two charged at Leon. He sidestepped both and booked it towards the far door where the cells were. He ran in and gasped raggedly as he wove through cells and long stretches of corridor until he wound up at the only one that mattered. Leon stepped up to the power box and put both parts in. He stared, changing the directions of wires and currents until they ran through.

With an electric beep, the door to Ben’s cell snapped open, rattling loudly—all the other cages probably opened up too. Fuck. Leon should have shot the zombies still in those cages while he had the chance. Too late now.

Leon stepped into the cell. He had some time before the zombies wandered out.

There was a note on the desk in the cell. A memo from Ben.

_The station’s swarming with monsters._

_Even here I can hear their cries._

_But it’s not the zombies I’m afraid of._

_Codename: Tyrant._

_The ultimate bio-weapon, developed by those bastards in the utmost secrecy. Multiple T-series were sent to the R.P.D., they’ve been tested for item retrieval, fighting armed opposition, and acting as body guards for important Umbrella personnel. To think that one of those things might be wandering around here..._

_Chances are they ordered this one to wipe out the witnesses._

Wait. Tyrant? Was Ben talking about that thing that had been chasing Leon? The more he thought about it the more sense it made. The strength of the thing that grabbed Ben when he was in this very cell and the loud, warning footfalls of the thing when it walked from the cell were familiar too. Both were things Leon would readily associate with the… Tyrant. Was that really what it was called?

...

Lucky guess.

Leon left the note on the desk and toed over to Ben’s body. He crouched to grab the lanyard when something on the inside of Ben’s coat caught his eye. Leon pulled it out. It was a recorder. He pressed the play button and held it up to his ear. Ben’s voice came out first.

_’… But that doesn’t explain the rumors about the orphanage. I-I just find it way too coincidental Umbrella’s one of the benefactors.’_

Then a woman’s voice.

_’You told me this interview was about the new scholarship Umbrella set up.’_

_’Come on, Annette. Nobody cares about that. They want to know about the G-virus and the—‘_

_’Where did you hear that?’_

_’—And that big fucking sinkhole in the city which, by the way, rumor has it goes straight to your underground lab.’_

“Lab?” Leon muttered, but Ben’s voice droned on.

_’Now, are you going to talk to me or are you—‘_

_’This interview is over.’_

A grunt.

_’Bitch.’_

Classic Ben.

Leon stopped the recorder and pocketed it. Gently, he took the key card lanyard off of Ben's corpse and threw it over his head. That stuff Ben said about Umbrella corporation, though… “What are they after…?”

Leon didn’t have time to contemplate the answer further as he stood up and walked out of the cell. He stopped beyond the gate and stood frozen as eight zombies cluttered the corridor leading to his way out. “Shit—that’s not good—“

Leon yelped as the first one grabbed for him. He jumped back farther into the small area next to Ben’s cell. The small horde charged at him and he took a flash grenade from his pouch and threw it down. The zombies stalled at the bright, annoying light and Leon shot the canister before it could go out.

Four of the zombies were thrown away, the other three stood dazed just long enough for Leon to run past. One zombie at the back of the group hissed and grabbed him. Leon pushed at it but his hand slipped from its peeling flesh and it got partially behind him.

“Argh!” Leon cried as the thing bit into his shoulder. Great. A dog got one and a zombie got the other. Two for two.

Leon wasn’t keen on seeing what the zombie would bite next. He drove his elbow into its gut, knocking it off of him. He clutched his shoulder and ran again. The horde collectively howled after him—their steps shambling and slow. 

Leon almost made to the end of the corridor—the parking garage was just a stone’s throw away. Heavy steps impeded his relief, however. From the corridor leading out, Tyrant marched in.

“Oh give me a break!” Leon begged. Tyrant made a beeline towards him. Leon dropped his hand from his shoulder and ducked under the leather-clad hands of the walking-bioweapon and bear-crawled his way into the corridor. 

Leon slammed through several barred doors before rushing into the parking garage. The cruiser behind the gate shone brightly and Leon gasped in elation. He was almost there—just a couple of steps and he’d be free—

Leon screamed. A sharp force on his leg almost floored him. His hands shot out to grab at his injury and met with the rotting face of a dog—crap! Leon grit his teeth and hissed as he tried desperately to open its locked jaw from his leg. Every time his hold lessened and its teeth would sink right back into the meat of his leg. Another dog growled hungrily from nearby and Leon barely had time to fall back, dodging its wild jump. He gasped raggedly as excruciating pain lanced up his leg. A snarl made him whip his around. Two more dogs were stalking over. Their maws bled red drool and their unseeing eyes locked onto his grounded form. Shit!

“No!” Leon cried as the dogs jumped.

Next to Leon a concrete wall exploded outwards. The rubble raining down didn’t distract from the form that stepped out. Tyrant gave an enraged shout and it caught two dogs midair, then crushed their bodies.

Tyrant let them fall to the floor and swung its fist at the third dog. It gave a pathetic whimper as its skull was forced inward. Tyrant snapped back around to face the final dog. With one hand clasped on the top of the dog’s jaw and one on the lower part, it easily pried the dog off of Leon’s leg easily. Leon averted his eyes as it continued to pull. When he looked again, the top half of the dog’s head was flung to the ground separate from its body.

Tyrant knelt down close to Leon. Its hand came up and encircled his neck, but didn’t squeeze. Leon clutched at his leg and looked up wetly into Tyrant’s eyes. Its face furrowed in indecision.

Leon gulped, the hand around his throat steadied him. “I need to find my friends.”

Tyrant’s gaze darted between Leon’s eyes and his moving lips. Its thumb pressed lightly against his cheek and stroked carefully. Its other hand wandered down to cover Leon’s. He moved his hands out of the way and Tyrant applied just enough pressure to halt the bleeding. 

“I need to get to Marvin and Claire,” Leon started again. “They’re in danger and...” He let one of his hands touch Tyrant’s wrist. “I need _your_ help.” Tyrants gaze sharpened. “Please.”

Tyrant said nothing. Instead, its hand slid off of Leon’s throat and onto his weapon’s pouch. He was just about to ask what it was doing when it opened up the pouch he put all his herbs in. It took a good amount of the leaves and put them in its mouth, then ground its teeth together. The leaves softened and turned to much beneath its teeth.

Oh, wait.

“Oh, wait,” said Leon, just now realizing what was happening.

Tyrant again said nothing, leaned over, uncovered the wound on Leon’s leg, and spit a horrible half-chewed gob of slobbery herb paste right into the injury.

“Oh my god!” Leon protested. “That’s even worse than last time! Why!?”

Tyrant’s eyes smiled and it carefully rubbed the paste further into the bleeding mess on Leon’s legs. Despite the disgusting application of the herbs, they absorbed easily into his skin and healed up the worse of the damage. There was a faint discolored knot of scars under the herb paste. 

Effective. Disgusting, but effective.

“I can’t believe you,” Leon groaned. Tyrant helped him to his feet even as he griped, “That’s disgusting. You just _spit_ into my leg. You probably gave me watered down zombie cooties—am I going to grow five feet and turn purple?” Tyrant said nothing. “Now I know why they wrote that song—giant purple people eater—it was trying to warn me. I should have listened.”

Tyrant’s eyes scrunched up in amusement.

”Leon!?”

Leon and Tyrant whipped around. Ada stood, half inside a large police vehicle. Her shades were gone and eyes were worried and confused as she stared at the two of them.

Leon looked up at Tyrant, then back at Ada. “It’s fine! It was just helping me!” Leon moved to go over to Ada but a giant hand blocked his path. He rose a brow at Tyrant. “We’re not doing the whole, gotta-catch-em-all thing again, right? You can’t keep me in a cell forever.” Tyrant’s lips pursed, but its hand went back down to its side. Leon smiled and caught Tyrant’s hand in his own, “Just admit that I’m too stubborn to be kept locked up.” He pulled Tyrant along behind him.

Ada half got back into the van as Leon and Tyrant got closer. “Is that…?”

“Ada, meet Tyrant,” Leon sighed dramatically while gesturing between them. “Tyrant, meet Ada, she’s friends with that guy you uh… Killed. In the cell.” Maaaaybe not the best introduction.

Tyrant grumbled under its breath and Ada stepped back out of the vehicle. “Its not hostile?”

“Not to me,” Leon assured. He turned to Tyrant, “Ada’s with the F.B.I, she’s here to help.”

There was a calculating gleam in Tyrant’s eye when it looked back at Ada. Whoo boy.

“So!” Leon clapped, turning to Ada, “What’s next?”

Ada’s eyes tore away from Tyrant, “I take it you have the key car?”

“Yeah,” Leon sighed in relief. He took the key card from around his neck and paused. He took the recorder out of his pocket then presented both to Ada, “And this. I was hoping you could explain what’s on it.”

Ada shook her hair out of her face and took both items from Leon’s possession. “Maybe…” She shook her head. “After I hear it...”

With that, Ada turned around and walked purposefully to the parking garage power box while holding the recorder up to her ear. Leon shrugged up at Tyrant and followed her. Behind him, Tyrant came too.

Ada still held up the recorder to her head while she put the key card into the slot on the box. The machine beeped happily and turned green, and the shutters opened up before them. Before it finished opening fully, she crouched under and began walking out of the garage. Leon rolled his eyes and waited for the gate to get far up enough that he wouldn’t have to crouch under it. It wasn’t like they needed to be anywhere fast. He didn’t even know where to begin looking for Marvin and Claire—if they were even in the city still. He and Tyrant ducked their heads under the shutters and went out after Ada.

The air outside was unfairly crisp, and Leon inhaled shakily as he finally left the facility. Ada was in the center of the road already, light drops of dew clung to her hair. There was a light shower. Leon turned his face up to the cold light of the lampposts. Despite the cold and bleakness of the street, he smiled. 

Tyrant walked in front of Leon and put him in its shadow. He smiled up at it. “How’s the weather up there?” Tyrant’s eyes twinkled.

Ada scoffed where she stood. The quiet drone of the recorder finally tapered out and she put it in her pocket. Leon walked over, “Is that the intel you needed?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Ada responded dryly. She turned on her heel as Leon came closer and began walking down the street. “Ben didn’t come through.”

“Well, what exactly are you looking for?”

“More info on the people responsible for this mess.” Ada half looked back, her eyes still sticking on Tyrant every so often, “What about you? Trying to save the world?”

“I’ve got a couple of friends still in the city. I told them I’d bring help.”

Ada’s eye cut up to Tyrant, still trailing behind Leon. “Good luck getting that...”

Ada continued up the street a little ways ahead of Leon and Tyrant. He squinted out at her then rolled his eyes at Tyrant. He mimed throwing his hair to the side with his hand snootily and Tyrant snorted loudly.

Ada paused and Leon had half a second to worry that she actually saw him making fun of her before his eyes widened. In front of them, the road dropped off about fifty feet down into the subway.

“Road’s out,” Ada grumbled. “Going through that gun shop looks like the only way,” she pointed to a store with a bright neon sign still in operation. _Gun Shop Kendo_ , it read.

Leon followed Ada as she strode towards the store. Tyrant’s hand patted his back and he smiled back at it nervously. There was no way so much damage could have been caused to the city to make that crater. What in the hell happened out here?

Ada knelt down at the door. Her hands shot out at the knob and made several turns with her wrist at the lock. What in the…?

Ada stood and pushed the door inwards. Huh. Who knew the F.B.I. trained people to break into doors the quiet way?

Leon and Tyrant trailed along into the store.

”What a mess,” Ada murmured to herself, kicking opened boxes of ammunition and empty bottles of beer.

Leon padded to the left and spotted a couple of unused items. At the far end of the store was a single grenade—dangerous place to put it, but he wasn’t about to judge. Closer to the counter was a part for a shotgun—a longer barrel. Leon quickly took his shotgun from its sash and combined it with the barrel. He held it up and aimed at the far wall. It would help with his accuracy. Nice.

Leon stashed the shotgun and wound further into the store. Behind him, Tyrant picked up a box of ammunition from the floor and opened the box. Several bullets fell into its open palm, and it tossed all twelve bullets right into its mouth like pez candies and swallowed. Double huh.

Leon went back to looking around the store and found some handgun ammo of his own. He went around the counter and was just about to go looking through the cabinets in the back when he felt the cold press of a barrel up against his temple.

“Don’t move,” commanded a man to Leon’s left.

Leon stopped. “I’m not going to hurt you—”

“I said, _don’t move!_ ”

“I’m just passing through,” Leon placated, “I’m going to ask you to lower that weapon.”

“Like hell you are. You’re going to...” Leon heard Tyrant growl and step closer. “What the fuck!?” The gun darted away from Leon to point somewhere behind him.

Leon, still frozen, barked, “Don’t! Leave him alone.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Tyrant or the stranger but his thoughts fuzzes out in his brain as he saw the shadow of a young girl behind the man. Her chest heaved like she was struggling to pull in enough air. “I think your daughter needs help sir...”

The gun swung back around to Leon. The man growled, “Don’t tell me how to deal with my daughter.”

From Leon’s other side, Ada appeared. “Drop it.” Her gun trained on the man, then the daughter as she stepped into the light. Her complexion was waxy and blue. Almost dead.

The man saw Ada’s gun train on his daughter and he flung himself between them, “No! Wait!”

Leon and Tyrant stepped up beside Ada. Her mouth was a thin line as she intoned, “Step aside. We need to terminate her before she turns.”

”Terminate?” The man demanded softly. “That’s my _fucking_ daughter…!”

Leon’s brow furrowed. There was true pain in the man’s voice. “Ada,” he began, “Just let them be.”

Ada’s eye cut to Leon, then back to the man. His arms were shaking. She slowly lowered her gun. The man’s stayed up.

“Emma?” the man called gently. “Sweetheart, I told you to stay put...” He backed up until he was closer to her, then finally lowered his gun.

Her bleached eyes swam further out of focus upon hearing his voice. “Daddy…?”

The man crouched down and put his hands on his daughter’s shoulders, steadying her. “Yeah, Emmie. Daddy’s here. I’m here, okay?” He took her and hugged her tight against his chest. His eyes turned to Leon. “Those fuckin’ things outside… Look what they did to us.” His brows lowered. “You’re a _cop_. You’re supposed to know something—how did _this_ happen!?” He demanded. “Huh!?” His eyes welled up as he listened to his daughter struggling to breathe. “She was out sweet little angel.” He bit his lip.

“M-mommy…?” The girl spat questioningly, her eyes still unfocused and clouded.

The man’s lips drew down, worse than before. “Mommy’s sleeping, honey, okay?” He breathed shakily. “And I’m gonna put you to bed too, okay?” His hands shook. “Emma...”

The man picked his gun up and took his daughter in his arms. He walked haltingly to a door at the back of the alley. He entered and started to shut the door. He sniffled, “Just go… Just give us some privacy...”

Leon’s heart pulled painfully as the man’s voice broke. The door slammed shut, and a moment later, a gun shot echoed from behind it.

Leon’s hands clenched at his sides. He glared at Ada, “You know… It’s one thing to keep the truth from me… But why him?” She didn’t respond and Leon shook the water from his hair. “I need to find out what’s happening here and stop whoever’s behind it.” He gestured to the door, “Helping people like them? What’s why I joined the force.” He stared into Ada’s face beseechingly.

She hesitated, then stepped up beside him. “My mission is to take down Umbrella’s entire operation.” She paused. “We may not make it out.”

”Whatever it takes to save the city,” Leon swore. Tyrant came up behind him. “Count me in.” The leather of its glove brushed against Leon’s clenched hand until he opened it up. It stroked down his palm and he took a calming breath.

Ada’s gaze darted between them and she moved away to an open gate off of the alley. “You heard of Umbrella before?” She didn’t wait for a response, “They’re a pharmaceutical company secretly making bioweapons.” Leon followed as she wound then down another alley. “They have a virus,” her voice hitched oddly on the word and Leon’s eyes narrowed at her back. “It turns people into indestructible monsters.”

”Like Tyrant?” Leon questioned, then chuckled at said bioweapon, “Not that I’m saying you’re a monster.” Tyrant grunted agreeably. “Either way, it would explain a lot of the horrible things I’ve seen.”

Ada hummed in reply and brought them to another gaping hole in the ground. There were metal construction sheets lining the buildings outlining the hole, and she lead Leon and Tyrant over to them. They used the makeshift platform to wind down the “street”.

Ada’s heels clacked loudly as they made their way down. “That’s why I’m looking for Annette Birkin—” Tyrant made a low noise, but Ada didn’t seem to hear. “She’s the one at Umbrella responsible for unleashing the virus. I’m going to bring her down.”

Leon looked over his shoulder. Tyrant was doing a pretty good impression of a man with no face who just failed his third visit to anger management. Oh boy. There was something Ada was telling them that was wrong—at least by Tyrant’s standpoint, but it wasn’t like Leon could ask it what was going on—he didn’t think it could speak the way he and Ada did—maybe that was part of its mutation?

Leon looked back ahead but stretched his free hand out behind him. Cold leather touched the tips of his fingers and wrapped around them gently. Still holding onto Tyrant, Leon made his way down several metal steps to a drop.

Ada went down first without a hitch. Leon forgot to let go of Tyrant as he turned and dropped to his knees on the edge of the scaffolding so he could also drop down, and instead, Tyrant held onto his hand and lowered him the rest of the way. Leon moved out of the way and Tyrant jumped down after them. The metal creaked ominously and Ada threw them a look before continuing down.

There was another drop. This time, Tyrant extended its hand. Leon chuckled at it and graciously let himself be lifted and place down gently onto the ground. Ahead, he winced a bit as Ada rubbed at the base of her heel. That must have been painful to get down with.

Tyrant jumped down after Leon and they both headed over to Ada, who put her foot back down. She stood in front of a sewer pipe. “This is how we get to Annette,” she explained.

Leon just brought his gun up and his flashlight out, “Based on what you’ve said, the sewer seems fitting.”

“Well said.” Ada stepped back. “After you.”

Leon scoffed and shone his light into the pipe. “Gee, thanks.”

Leon stared down into the dimly illuminated sewer pipe. It was big enough that Tyrant would just barely be able to stand straight in it, but it filled Leon’s stomach with churning claustrophobia. He swallowed loudly and kept staring into the waiting darkness.

A cold presence made itself known on Leon’s shoulder and he looked up. Tyrant’s hand rested gently on him, not pushing, not pulling. It waited patiently.

Leon took another calming breath and gave Tyrant a tentative smile before looking back down into the pipe. Time to go.

Leon stepped into the pipe, Tyrant and Ada following behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i almost deleted a bunch of my gameplay because i watch it and write at the same time on my computer and i almost fucking cropped the video and saved so thank FUCK i didnt do that lmao that was scary
> 
> but uhhh yeah! finally a new chapter i know lmao i think ive got some life stuff planned, and if not im going to start selling out to furries and fucking off for a long time probably, but hopefully it wont come to that lmao
> 
> tyrant is now a part of the party! yaay! im going to keep refering to tyrant as an "it" cause i dont think it really cares all that much about pronouns and i want to keep the "its still a monster" theme going lmao if you dont like that youre free to copy the chapter, put it in a word document, and find/replace all instances of "it" with "he" but since i also use "it" for zombies, lickers and inanimate objects there might be some confusion lmao but if it makes you more comfortable you can go ahead and do that
> 
> uhhhhhh theres a lot of stuff i both did and didnt say in this chapter, its a little jumbled and its going to feel a bit out of sorts just cause i wrote a bunch of scenes in this one at separate times - this is another chapter that i was like "i have to know whats happening in the present before i make them into solid scenes" because theyre all based on things that leon, ada and tyrant both have and havent done yet, like the recordings, finding out what tyrant is, etc etc etc, so hopefully now i'll be able to get through more of the story since most of the finicky nit-picky bits are out of the way lmao so enjoy!


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